Embroidered.Kisses
(4)
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“You could have killed us!” I shouted as I stood up in front of Vincent.
“You will not raise your voice at me, little girl. Who owns you here?” Vincent’s lip curled as he snarled into solemn face.
I continued to stare straight into his eyes. They were black.
“GOD DAMMIT, ANSWER ME!” Vincent yelled at me.
“My mother! My mother owns me! You’re not even my real dad!” I closed my eyes preparing for the worst.
Vincent balled up his fist and slapped me hard across my cheek with it.
“I can do so much worse, Macey. Watch yourself,” Vincent grabbed my shirt and pulled me close.
His hands were dangerously close to my breasts.
We both froze as the sound of the front door unlocking reached our ears in the now silent living room.
Vincent quickly let go of me as we heard my mother’s cheerful voice. “Hello! I’m home!”
Vincent pushed me down to the sofa and walked over to the stairs. “You’re home early, honey!”
“Well, so are you!” I saw my mother come up the stairs and give Vincent a light kiss on the lips. “Mark’s kid got the flu, so he sent everyone home early.”
My mother was basically a grown-up version of me. She had given me her long blond hair, courtesy of her Swedish ancestry. She had given me her long, slender legs and her high cheek bones. The only difference between me and her were that I had bright green eyes that came straight from my father, while her’s were a brownish color.
“Hi sweetie! How was school?” My mother smiled at me as she made her way to the kitchen.
“Fine,” I answered, avoiding Vincent’s cruel eyes.
“She’s been planted on that sofa since I brought her home. She’s so lazy, I wish she’d get involved in sports!” Vincent smirked at me. My mother was completely oblivious to his disrespect.
“She used to be in every sport imaginable! She was great,” My mother’s voice wafted from around the corner. I smiled at the memory of how things were when I was a child. My mom in the stands, cheering her daughter on proudly and my dad on the sidelines, yelling orders from the sidelines. He always volunteered to be the coach.
“Huh,” Vincent chuckled lightly. “That was a while ago, eh? She’s really put on a lot of weight since then!”
My face fell.
“What was that, dear?”
“Oh nothing, hon. Just talking to our daughter,” Vincent winked at me. I scowled in response.
“But really, Mace. You should do something about those extra pounds. They make you look even more worthless than you already are. I’m just glad you’re not my biological daughter. I would be so embarrassed,” Vincent leaned towards me as though he was talking to a new puppy. “Now, why don’t you make yourself a little more useful by leaving us alone and going to your room for the rest of the night? You don’t need dinner anyways.”
I breathed in deeply to gather my emotions and stood up shakily. I looked at Vincent, all I got as a reaction was a sly eyebrow raise.
I bolted from the living room, down the hallway, and into the bathroom that I had to myself.
Being an only child had its perks.
I fumbled through the draws clumsily looking for one thing in particular.
One thing I always reached for when things went wrong.
One thing that was always there for me when I needed it.
I smiled sadly as my fingers found what I needed.
I slowly pulled up my sleeve. A neat row of wide scars greeted me.
I uncovered my knife and slowly added another to the row.
I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING EARLIER.
My internet went out because of some lovely storms.
But on the bright side, we REALLY NEED RAIN. So bring it, clouds!(;
But as always, let me know what you think!(:
I love you all more than the boys from N*SYNC♥
Anybody else remember them? I'm listening to "Bye Bye Bye" right now(:
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