I came home from school with thoughts running through my mind. I got in a fight today and lost... I held my broken arm firmly. It stung like hell! When I arrived at my parent's home, I was greeted by a constant slap in the face by my mother. "You stupid girl! You should have been here hours ago!"

My mother shouted at me. I whimpered as I rubbed my cheek with my good arm. "But... I stayed after school because I signed up at art class. I got delayed even more because I got in a fi-" I was cut off by my mother, throwing me to the hard rocky ground. I cried out softly as my bad arm was now bleeding. Crimson was now leaking onto the ground. My mother then kicked my side. "A stupid art class can't fix your horrible drawings! So tell them that you quit!" My mother spat. I cringed. "But...I-I..." I said softly. My mother once again interrupted my words as she stomped on my rib cage. I spat out crimson liquid as it leaked from my mouth. My mother didn't bother to finish the beating. It was my lucky day. She went back inside the house and left the door open. I dried my cheeks from the cold tears and shakily stood up only to cough up more crimson liquid. I took
Slow deep breaths. My mothers beating was over. I sighed as I slowly walked to my parent's home.

My wings flapped in effort to get me off the ground. With success, I got a few inches off the ground and flew towards the door. I stopped flapping and my feet landed on the floor. I went in. I went upstairs to my parents room, eager to tell my mother I was sorry. With every step I took, my injuries stung and I hated every second. I knew nobody would come for me, so I ignored my feelings of agony.

I opened the door and gasped at the scene that was before me. My mother was tied up on a rack, with legs spread apart and arms spread too. Her arms looked like they were stabbed uncontrollably. The rack was filled with warm blood. My father held a bloody knife on his hand and had a sly grin on his face. My mother was panting and tears poured down her cheeks.

"Fa-father?!?" I said in shock. My father whipped his head around and spotted me. He put on an annoyed frown. "Just in time. You just had to break in here?" He said to me. For this, I wouldn't get a beating. No, I get torture. My father pinned me to the ground and I whimpered as the knife he had in his hand dug into my bad arm.

Crimson liquid formed around the wound. I slowly flapped my wings in effort to get away from him. He took notice of what I was trying to do, so he sunk the knife deeper. I started to cry out. "Please stop! I'm sorry! Please!" I cried out effortlessly. My father ignored my pleas and he started moving the knife down, making me cry even harder.

I knew screaming was hopeless, so I didn't. My father took the knife out, realizing if he kept doing that, it might kill me. He needed me as a slave. I whimpered as he kicked my side, making me aware that the beating, was over.

I stood up and avoided touching my wounded arm. I watched as my father released my mother from the rack and pinned her to the ground. He grinned as he shoved the knife in her neck, killing her. My father took the knife out, and left my mother on the floor, dead cold.

I quickly ran to my room avoiding any more beatings. I was already in bad condition. I went to my bed and closed my eyes. The only thing I look forward to at school is the school nurse. Everyday in school, I would go to the school nurse after morning beatings. Sometimes she would ask what causes all of these injuries, I would change the subject, avoiding the question.