Mute & Abused Mate || 1 ||

Fleurie's point of view:

"GET DOWN AND MAKE MY BREAKFAST, YOU WHORE!" I don't think that's how most people wake up. The scumbag here is dumping hot water on you as my flesh is peeling off my body.

My alarm may have broken, and guess who broke it, CORRECT, the scumbag who calls himself a father.

This scumbag here wouldn't allow me to call him dad, but he did want me to address him as "sir" when he first started, and he didn't stop until I quit talking.

I did not have a really pleasant or enjoyable childhood or youth. I get up so quickly that the ache spreads throughout my entire body.

I went to the bathroom, peeled off my wet clothing along with my peeled skin, and sat in the warm water. My muscles began to relax.

I'm using my eucalyptus mint shower gel to wash my body and my peeling skin.

I took a step outside, brushing the steam off the mirror. Blue bruises beneath my eyes, wounds on my nose and under my chin, and bruises and cuts all over my arms.

Dark dirty blonde hair that reached my mid-back, dull lifeless forest green eyes, a slender body that revealed my ribs and a good portion of my spine, all thanks to that scumbag who refuses to feed me.

I cover it up with leggings and an oversized grey sweater.

running downstairs to make the traditional three eggs, a pile of bacon, and a can of beer I called the scumbag by softly touching his shoulder as he sipped from his whiskey glass; he started eating; I couldn't move; I had to stand until he finished.

It's also the first day of school for me.

"Hear me carefully, you little bitch, if you talk to anyone or tell them anything, I will rip your fucking guts out," he shouted as he pushed me.

I nodded, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Go, and if you're late, I'll come pulling you back to the house by your hair." Still gazing down, I nodded.

I put on my worn-out Converse and walked to school with my hood pulled up to hide the majority of my face.

I'm not looking forward to going to school. As customary for the other schools, they will make jokes about me, ridicule me, call me mute, and other derogatory terms.

The school came into view, and it appears that I am late because no one is outside. I made my way down the deserted corridor to reception.

The receptionist is an elderly lady with red hair pulled back in a loose bun, enormous and heavy glasses mounted on her nose, and a freckled face.

To gain her attention, I tapped on the table. She raised her head, peering at me, wondering why there was a student absent from class, but I think she realized I was new here because her face lit up with recognition.

"Are you? I'm guessing the new girl?" I nodded when she asked.

"Fleurie Collison?" I confirmed by nodding.

"Here, take your schedule, locker number, and school map; your first class is math, so proceed to room 12C," I said as I nodded.

Walking down the opposite hallway and stopped in front of the classroom with 12C written on the door. We're at it again.

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I really Hate Her Father, He is such an asshole.

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Word Count: 554