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November 13, 2013
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CRACK!

A searing pain ripped through your body as you felt the whip come in contact with your back.

You whimpered, tears brimming your eyes as your father whipped you. Your wrists were tied far above your head. With every lash you received, more pain came to you.

You could feel the blood with every crack the echoed throughout the room go down your back. Your (h/l), (h/c) hair was matted, and greasy. You weren’t allowed a bath in days, maybe even weeks.

Your paling skin was decorated with bruises, scars, and fresh wounds. Your hands were bloody and calloused from all the work that your father made you do.

Your stomach and arms were bruised and scarred from all the beatings and stabs you received. Your back was the worst of it all, though. There were whip marks, both old and new all over your back.

When he finished whipping you, you whimpered from the pain, hoping it’d just stop there, today. You felt your father’s hands working to undo the knot around your wrists.

You could feel his rough hands tapping against your hands from time to time. But you were numb to his touch. You felt your arms drop as gravity took effect on you. Your upper body slumped forward, after at least an hour of staying in the same position.

“Clean yourself up, (Name).” your father said simply as he left a bucket of water with you, and a sponge. You nodded silently as you reached for the sponge.

You slowly began to clean your back, wincing and whimpering with every brush of the sponge. You ended up not being able to finish, because the pain was too intense, and the cold water didn’t really help. You slowly untied your ankles, and shakily stood up.

Wiping away the tears that brimmed your eyes, you took a shaky step to where your clothes lie in a pile.

You pulled on your cleanest-yet-dirty shirt, and an old pair of shorts that was way too big for you. You had bags underneath your eyes. you hadn’t slept in days. Your mother died in an accident when you were about five years old.

Your father was angry, and in blind anger did he beat you and assault you verbally. Not a day passed when you wished it were you, and not your mom, who died that day. When you were completely dressed, you ascended the stairs, up to the door of the basement.
When the door was opened, light flooded into the room. You winced, but once you had grown used to the light, you sighed softly. Your dad was gone already. Probably left to hang out with his irresponsible friends and get drunk…

You relaxed when you realized this would be your chance to escape. You had been planning to leave for quite some time, but after a few failed attempts that resulted in violent beatings, harsh words, and some whipping, you gave up for a while. But it’s time to try one more time. You turned on your heel, and went to the small, cold room that belonged to you.

The walls were bare, with no color at all. It reflected how you often felt inside. The walls were just a grey-ish brown color, neutral, and devoid of any sense of creativity or innocence. Your bed was just an old mattress on the floor, and you have very few clothes that fit you. You had a school uniform from when you attended middle school, but it didn’t fit anymore.

You had a (f/c) nightgown that used to be snug on you, but because of how starved you were, it was too big. You took the nightgown, and an extra pair of underwear, before looking around the room again.

Seeing a picture of your mom, and old, stuffed (f/a) and an old locket, which was a gift from your grandma, you grabbed them, and put them in a small bag. Pulling on your old snow boots, since there was snow outside, you went out the front door, and down the street, thanking god that he wasn’t home.

You shivered, not having a warm coat to wear as you walked, and held yourself. “wh-why d-d-d-did I ch-chose today t-t-to leave…?” you asked yourself, your pretty voice shaking as you did. you began to grow distracted by your own thoughts, until you came in contact with something firm, somewhat like a wall. You fell back with a soft ‘oof’.

“Huh? Why did I-? oh! I’m sorry, are you alright?” a voice asked. you looked up, only to see…

Yay I began to re write it :D

I do not own anything except the fanfic >:I

hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz

you belong to you (for now...)

I do not own the picture >:I

also! If you were wondering, f/a means 'Favorite Animal' :3

part I: you're already here, silly! >w< 
Add a Comment:
 
:iconcomedywiz411:
Comedywiz411 Featured By Owner Aug 18, 2014   General Artist
'You looked up, only to see...'

Me: Sexiness Sexy horse (oh noes) 
Reply
:iconseeuthevocaloid:
SeeUtheVocaloid Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2014  Student General Artist
Oh my god you've improved a lot. DX I haven't improved at all with my writing.
Reply
:icontwilightshutter:
Twilightshutter Featured By Owner Dec 3, 2013
OMAI 


I LUV TIS

YAY
Reply
:iconkawa11angel:
kawa11angel Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2013  Student Digital Artist
:iconiloveitplz:
Reply
:iconxtwilightprincess7:
xTwilightPrincess7 Featured By Owner Nov 21, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks so much for rewriting this! I can't wait to read them all! :D
Reply
:iconckiser:
ckiser Featured By Owner Nov 19, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
love it

Reply
:iconasiancusine:
Asiancusine Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2013  Hobbyist Artist
I actually like the old one better
Reply
:iconameliatheheroine:
AmeliaTheHeroine Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
yay! :iconyayamericaplz:
Reply
:iconskye-42:
Skye-42 Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2013  Student General Artist
Well, I definitely see an improvement. Can't wait for more. ^^
Reply
:iconrainekokoro:
RaineKokoro Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
GURRRL YOU BEST POST THE SECOND ONE AT LEAST TOMORROW.
Reply
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