I wake up to the sound of my alarm, the blaring sound brings nothing but annoyance to the start of a new day. I go to reach out for my phone, but stop when hot white flashes of pain hit my body. The beating that I got a few days ago makes its presence by limiting my movements. I stay still for a moment hoping the pain dies down a bit. I take a deep breath or at least try to, the pain in my ribs constricts the amount of air I'm able to breathe. I blink away the tears that have formed in my eyes and force myself out the bed trying to ignore the pain that shoots through each limb I move. It would be worse if I didn't get up, another beating would be bound to happen and I can't afford that. Being stuck in this house all day or in a hospital bed is not a comforting feeling. Both leave me in a place of being vulnerable, I wouldn't put myself in that situation again if I didn't have to.

I make my way to my makeshift closet and pull out a baggy pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I slowly make my way to the bathroom and turn the freezing cold water on, hoping that it will help relieve the pain in my body. I don't want to take too many painkillers, I can't afford to have to take more than a few a day. I don't know what each day will bring and I can't run out on a day that I truly need them. A few days ago would be the perfect example. The beating was brutal, I'd never seen them so mad. Their worlds made no sense to me, but I don't want to question and ponder what they meant.

I go through my regular routine trying to push the negative thoughts away but finding it hard when I have nothing to look forward to. My home life sucks and school really isn't much better. I don't know if I could call this place much of a home. I’ve never come home to a loving parent, siblings, or a warm bed. No, I come home to a place filled with nothing but hatred, a cold sad place. A place where too many things were taken from me. No should have meant no. They should have listened to me. They never did, who would? Everything was always my fault and it only took about seven years for me to figure that out.

 "You deserve everything that I give you". I feel goosebumps rise on my skin when I think of his words, his voice, the way he dresses, and how he smelt. I could never forget it. I could never get him out of my head no matter how much I wanted to. I wanted to forget everything about him. I wanted to forget what he made me do, I wanted to forget his unwanted touches, I wanted to forget how I once trusted him, I wanted to forget that hope I had, I thought he was going to save me, make my life better. Little did I know that he would be my demise. He would ruin me. Break me. Put me back together and do it again and again. He never got tired of this torture. He got more creative, and made it worse for me each time, but better for him. He loved the sound of my tears, my screams, my begging for him, for them to stop. They never did. They never stop. It didn't matter what I did, they never stopped.

I break out of my trance and feel my tears mixing in with the cold water hitting my small bruise. I feel a familiar rush of anger and hate make course it’s way through my body, but I can't dwell on it knowing that I have more important things I need to do. What could I do anyway? I didn’t have the power to do anything. Not here. Not with him waiting for me. I have little next to no control over what happened to me and I hate it, but it’s all I know. To an extent I guess…

 I get out of the shower slowly and try to dry off my body without causing too much pain to my new and old wounds. I avoid the mirror at all costs till I'm fully clothed. I can't bear staring at myself for long. I hate when I look in the mirror and all that I see is a bruised and broken girl. The girl that has no hope in her eyes. A girl that's been ready…ready to die. Why would she plan a future for herself if she knew it would never happen? No one was coming to save her, so why would she try and save herself? 

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After I applied some light foundation and concealer to my bruins and dark eye bags I made my way downstairs to get breakfast ready. It's quiet, too quiet. It's possible that they could still be out and passed out at a bar or at a friend's house. My thoughts don't settle the nerves in my body. They could be playing a game on me like they did years ago. It wasn't fun. My life felt so useless. What they allowed the brutal men to do to me makes me sick.

I go ahead and still cook breakfast, even though they haven’t been around for a few days. It's better I cook in case they do show up, but either way, it won't go well for me because the food could be cold or "bad". Nothing I ever do is good enough for them, I don't even know why I try, either way, I'll get punished.

I set the table, putting the food down and keeping it in the pan with a hot pad under it. I make sure that everything is to my parents' liking. Well, more of John's liking knowing my mother will go with anything he says. I hate that she follows him around like a dog. I hate what he did to her. She was never a great mother, but I would take the neglect and hateful looks over the beatings, the burns, and the cruel words. I do anything to make her go back to the way she was. The drugs and alcohol that she got hooked on ruined her, it made her worse. She wasn't happy before and it was because of me. She always said me being born ruined her life and I believe her. I don't remember much from when I was younger, but I remember seeing a picture of my mother smiling. I think it was taken when I was a baby, I'm not sure, but all I know is that she looked happy. I never saw her like that again. There was no amount of drugs or alcohol that could make the light-hearted woman with joy and love in her eyes come back.

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After cleaning up the kitchen and the beer bottles laying around the house, I make my way to hell. I mean school. I know that I shouldn't hate it as much as I do, but each year has just been a reminder of how much time I had left with my parents and how much time it would be before I was given to him again. I just hate the reminders it brings and the people who seem to have nothing better to do than bring others down.

I can say that I am lucky to understand most of the material given. I am a bit surprised that I have done well in school. The amount of days that I missed because I couldn't get out of bed has to be one of the school's new records for the number of missed days. I was honestly happy when my counselor set me up for online school. She didn't call my parents because I constantly told her how busy they were with work. I think that she did call them though. She had this look in her eyes the day she set me up with a computer and all of the courses I needed. It was a look of what looked like sadness and fear. I never asked or dwelled on it because it was a door that I didn't want to open. Getting help wasn't an option, it would only make things worse.

That's why I was happy to get set up in an online school. It was quite easy and I went through the material far too fast. I ended up applying to one of the local colleges online when I was going into my freshman year of high school. I don't know how I really did it, but I managed and got the education that I wanted. It was a lot of work being in college class and high school classes as well. I could have easily dropped out, but I didn't because it would leave me at home with them. I couldn't do that, so I would rather take the extra education that I already know than be stuck in that house my entire life or until I turned 18.

Before I know it I'm at school heading to the library to get set up with my classes for the day. I ignore the stares and whispers as I make my way through the halls. I know that there is nothing that I can do to stop what they say and think about me. A part of my wishes I could. I would love for them not to judge me for what I look like and my clothes, but I can't. I can't stand up to them by myself and win. I can't stand up to my own parents so how could I stand up to an entire school?

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While working I hear the sound of the librarian's phone ring—it's the phone that every classroom has, but is never used. Though it does spark my attention along with some of the other students in the library, we hear the phone we all thought was for a decoration ring. It quiets for a few beats as the librarian speaks to whoever is on the phone. I'm about to turn my attention back to the assignment that I need to finish, but then the librarian's light blue eyes land on me and she mumbles something into the phone before hanging up. I feel my body heat rise a few degrees thinking that she could have been talking about me. There's no way that she was, I say to myself. I haven't broken any rules that I know about. I take a deep breath and keep trying to tell myself she wasn't talking about me, but it's short-lived when she gets up and makes her way toward me.

I shouldn't be as nervous as I am right now, but I can't help it. What if they are pulling me out of school? What if someone reported me? What if they expel me? My breaths are coming in short as I overthink what I could have possibly done for the librarian to make her way over to me. I don't have enough time to calm myself down before she is standing in front of me.

"Sweetheart, you are needed down at the office," she says in her quiet soft voice. I try to calm my breath as much as I can before I speak.

"Do you happen to know why?" My voice is quiet and shaky as I speak, the unknowing scaring me.

"It's not my place to say and I don't know the details, but it sounds like something important." Her quiet voice and warm smile help soothe my nerves a bit as a start to gather my stuff. After getting my stuff together I make my way to the door but stop when I hear her speak again.

"Everything will be okay Aurora, just give it time. Everything will work out for you, I know it." She smiles her warm smile at me and I feel a warmth spread through my body. She's so kind. I like coming to the library because of her, she never bothered me too much and even gave me food when I had none. She had no reason to do many of the things she did, but it looked like it never bothered her. She treated me like a daughter. She is the closest thing to a loving mother that I ever got. I feel my eyes prick with tears.

"Thank you," I say quickly before I rush out of the library after hearing her response. I didn't want her to see my glassy eyes. All of the students' eyes were on me again which did not help my nerves at all.

Before I know it I'm at the doors of the office trying to calm myself. I know that I just need to get this over with. I hate stressing and sitting here like an idiot doesn't make things better. Before I can second guess myself I make my way through the office doors. I wish that I knew my life was about to change. I wished that I had prepared myself. I wish that I put everything the bits of information that I was given together before I was told. I wish that things were different. I think.