• Innocence • [Night, Sarella]

I get slammed agains the wall, and it feels like myhead has split in two. My dad can hit pretty hard when he is especially angry. Right now he's just plain drunk, and I have to take this. It'll be over soon, I know. He can't hit me all day. He'll get tired eventually. He kicks me in the knee and throws me on the couch violently. "Idiot" He mutters. I didn't do anything, he probably just thinks I did. Another common thing. I sit up on the couch and curl onto the side. He looks at me disgustedly, as though I were a rat. All I do in return is shrink far into the seat. He walks towards me and I hold my breath, what was he going to try next? He yanks at my hair hard, and laughed. I jerked away and rubbed my head. I've got enough bruises there, I don't need him pulling on my hair to make it worse. "I'm going to work now, stay here." He says, and - still laughing - walks out the door.

I slink off the couch and stumble forward. Then, gently, I rub my hand over the bruises on my arms. Maybe I pressed too hard - I don't know - but I have to flinch when I hit an especially large bruise. It hurts. Well, of course it does. I lift my head, and immediatly end up next to the door. The lock isn't turned. In his drunkenness, my dad must've forgotten to lock the door behind him. I slowly open it, and step outside. Oh the wonderful air! I start walking forward, taking in the area I haven't seen - once again - in a while. The air is no where near what it's like in my house. Smoggyish, yes, but my house gets so stiff sometimes. I occasionally feel like I can't even breath in there. Thatm ight be my dad's doing, though.

I pass loads of people, but no one I recognize, and no one that recognizes me. It's been too many years and I've grown too much. I don't tell anyone though. If I did, and my dad heard about it, I could die. It wouldn't be quick either. I'd probably get beat to death. He'd be put to the gallows for sure, but not without making sure I'd had a long and painful death. I shudder at the thought. No, I wouldn't ever let that happen to me. I pass some people talking, and someone says hello. For a moment I think she's talking to me, and stop to look. No, she's talking to some other girl. I hang my head slightly, and listen in. Maybe I could talk to them, too? I hardly ever get to talk to anyone but my dad and his friends.

"Sorry, I thought something hit me." One of the girls says. I lift my head up and look at them for once. How can one think something hit them? Pain is real, and you know when it's there. It follows me around, even when my dad isn't beating me. I step forward a bit, dropping my left arm from my right. "Hi." I say quietly. Wait - was that too quiet? Maybe wouldn't hear that. That might be for the better though...