Its almost over.

Crash to the floor, there was a crack, another rib?

Almost over, almost over, almost over.

Picked up, slammed against the wall, the pain that sears from my chest is almost unbearbale, it would have been if I hadn't gone through it half a dozen times before.

Almost over, just hang on, almost over.

Slapped across the face, the sting lingering for longer then usual afterwards. Keep my eyes closed, don't open then, you don't want to see his face when hes doing this, it would erase any kinda of feelings I still have for him. Another slap, harder, to the back of my head sends me flying to the floor again, put my arms out to brace myself, in return a swift kick in the stomach, I cry out, I always do in the end, no matter how much I tell myself I'm going to be quiet. But no one hears me, it echos around the empty house. I could scream, the neihbors would just ignore it, I could yell murder, it wouldn't do any good. All I'll get in the mourning is a look of pitty from the new husband and wife next door, and a even worse forced smile from the old women on the other side. I curl up on the floor as I hear his foot steps echo away.

Its over...finely.

I stay there, in the empty liveing room, I can hear him exiting the house, most likely going to a bar, I won't see him again untill tomorrow evening sometimes. And I don't plan to be home then anyway. I wait for at least a hour, then stumble to my feet, the pain that rushs from my stomach to the top of my head is to much, and I barley make it to the couch before I fall. I gasp and clutch my stomach, take a few moments to get my breath, then stand again, slightly hunched over, not dearing to remove my hand from my stomach which is now throbbing. I can feel the agonizeing pain in my ribs, but I learned to ignore most of that a year ago after my mom left.

A few minutes later I was forced with the decishion of the stairs. I needed to get to my room, and the upstiars bathroom, my bathroom with a padlock on it which I put on when I left. My dads bathroom was disgusting and I never used it, and I wasn't about to let him use mine.

I took a deep breath then tested the first couple steps, after a while I was forced to crawl up the stairs, a bit of humilation was better then the pain of trying to do it up right. At the top of the stairs was my bathroom, i stumbled into it and flicked on the light. I took a deep breath, this room, and my room were the only two rooms in the house that didn't smell like alochol, sex, and smoke. I closed the door behind me so the bad smells couldn't get in. I looked in the mirror, I didn't cringe at my relfection like I use to anymore, but my eyes still shown with the anger, hurt, and disgust they did the first time this happen, a year ago. If I had only known that what I thought was a one time deal would become almost a daily ritual...

I had no black eyes this time, that was good, it was hard to go into work with those, the stares had already caused me to snap at two customers and almost get fired. I couldn't afford that. My cheeks were bruised, badly, one cut slightly, but it would probably heal over mostly by tomorrow. My neck was bruised from were his hands had grabbed me, what had startted this whole thing. I reached up and gingerly touched one of the purple finger like marks on my neck, and emeidietly cringed away. It was going to be so much worse in the mourning. I could already feel the usual head ache startting to throb in my temples. I carefully turned on the shower and carefully startted to peel of my cloths.

I took the hottest shower I could, letting the small and few tears passed unnoticed down my face with the rest of the water. I didn't bother to wash my hair, or anything else, I just stood there for over a half hour, untill all the hot water ran out, then I got out. I didn't grab I towl, I only had one left and wanted to save it. I couldn't afford to do laundry untill next week. I left my cloths in the bathroom and crossed the small narrowed hall to my room. I opened the door, enterd, and shut it. My room was pretty big, something I was greatfull for. Infront of me were to large square windows with a veiw of the streets outside, I lived in a small rundown neihborhood, bikes were spilled all over the streets, old rusting cars, things you would imagine in a future slum.

My room was light blue, long white curtains from the windows, posters of my favorite bands hung from the walls, not boy bands, but Korn, Disturbed, Metallica, Tool, the good bands that most had forgotten. A large queen bed sat to the left of me, mismatched sheets of blue, white, black, and green were dishevled, my to many pillows spilled on the floor next to it. To the front corner left was a small white desk with piles of papers from random things I had written, journals, and school homework I had to find a way to get done in two months when the summer ended. To the small right part of the room was a small closet, almost empty. And two tall skinny brown book shelves backed with old comic books my mom had baught me, and other odd assortment of books I had picked up at garge sales and from old friends. Besides that there was a small black nightstand with a corded phone on it, also black. The dark blue carpet was my favorite thing.

I limped, limped? Crap, I hadn't noticed the pain in my legs. I limped to my bed and carefully laied down, then double thinking, I got up and locked my door, then returned to my bed and laied down. Just to be safe. Breathing hurt, I tried not to focus on breathing. I let my mind shift, shift were? It was just darkness for a moment, and then I thought of work. I had a job at a small diner outside of town, I had worked there since I was sixteen, so almost two years ago. My eighteenth birthday was comeing up in October...joy. I felt my mind start to grow dark. Yes, sleep, nothingness, the oblivion. Thank God I never dreamed. It would most likely be nothing but nightmares. Sleep...sleep was good. In sleep, there was no pain...or so I thought.

So much for never dreaming...

I was running down the stairs, why was my mother leaveing with suitcases? Was there some trip no one had afformed me of? My dad and her were argueing. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs to listen.

"Were areyou going Pat?" I heard my dad asking, a tinge of desperation, anger, and fear all mingled in his voice.

"Were do you think I'm going? Away! Away from you and your drink, away from you and your verbal abuseiveness, away Rob! I'm not comeing back this time!"

I felt myself freeze, this wasn't moms normal I'm leaveing for a few days thing. Her voice was diffrent, it was cold, lifeless, there were no tears, there was no quickering voice, no hint of forgiveness, it was dead, stone.

"Mom?" I said walking into the liveing room were she stood with the front door open. I saw my moms back stiffen. She turned to look at me, my mother, my beautiful mother I always hoped I looked like. Long black hair down to the middle of her back, no spilt ends, no stray wild hairs, it shimmerd when she walked. Her almond shaped green eyes peered at me as I stepped akwardly into the room. My father, bald, tall, musculer but over weight, stood in his pajamas looking so lost it hurt.

"Mom...were are you going?" I asked stopping a few feet away from her. Then I saw her eyes fill up with tears, but they never spilled over, they never reached that point of true sorrow, of regret. And I relzied a year later, the only thing she probably regreted was not leaveing before I could see her.

"Ashley..." She said putting the bags down for a minute and walking to me. She hugged me, I hugged back, but I could feel myself start to go numb, this was wrong, everything about it felt wrong. This wasn't happening, I felt like I was watching this happen in a movie, one of those movies were you want to cry out and feel pitty for the small girl who was in my place...my place. This was me, this was happening.

"Ashley...I'm so sorry." She backed away so I could see her face. Her full lips were turned down at the corners, so diffrent from the laugh lines hideing at the corners.

"When will you be back?" I asked dumbly. I knew she wasn't comeing back.

"Honey...I'm not, I'm not comeing back." She said slowly. The tears still there, I could see my relfection in them, it was like gazeing on a corpse.

"Why? Did I do something?" I asked despertly. "I can change mom, whatever it is tell me, I'll fix it. And we can talk to dad, we can make him change."

I relized I almost had her untill the end of the sentence. Her faze froze for a moment, then her hands dropped from my shoulders and she stood back and looked my father who stared blankly back, like a dog about to be hit by a car. You idiot! Do something! My mind screamed, but he didn't. And my mom knew he wouldn't. She took one more look at me, then walked to the door and picked up her bags.

"Mom..." I said walking after her, I almost tripped, my legs were weak, I was weak.

I rushed to the door as she bolted from it, and quickly scrambled into the cab. I chased after it in the dark streets.

"Mom! Mom!" I screamed, the tears spilled down my face. What was happening? What was going on? I fell to the groun, my elbows scrapeing the pavement. I layed there not wanting to move, I payed for a car to hit me, something. Anything.

After a few hours I stood back up and made my way unfeeling back to my house. The only thing ringing in my mind was I had to take care of my father.

I pushed open the door and looked around, all the lights were off.

"Dad?" I called, my voice quivering.

That was the first time. I took one step into the liveing room and I felt a knock to the back of my head, I went flying to the groun, not expecting it I didn't try to catch myself and the pain was to much, I stayed down. A kick to the side, my first broken rib, I learned to regonize that pain, and force it to the back of my mind after a few months. Another kick, I screamed. One more flipped me over, and the face I saw looming over me shocked me. It was my fathers, my dad. The confusion and hurt that burst inside of my mind made me feel faint. My dad had never hit me before. What was he doing?

"Its your fault!" He sceamed being his barefoot down hard on my stomach. I gasped out of breath and rolled onto my side coughing. My mind shut down, I didn't want to think anymore. After a few minutes he left, I heard his old truck pull away. I layed on the floor all night, crying, my arms wrapped around me, trying to hold myself together. That was the day my world ended, that day I stopped believeing in everything, anything but God. My world became pain, tollernce, and a forced strength. I knew nothing else...that was untill I met Seth. Then everything changed.