AMY'S POV

I had just woken up to go to church school, when my dad barged into my room and told us with as much authority as he could muster-which was not much, "No matter what, don't go into the upstairs bathroom."

"OK dad." I had answered, confused as to why we couldn't just go in there. "Tell your siblings." He says. I nod my head as he walks out the door of my bedroom and goes into the garage.

"You guys! Wake up!" I yelled at my siblings. "WHY?!" They all scream back at me. "Because we have to go to church school." I yell back.

"I don't want to go." Groans my brother Parker. "Also, dad says not to use the upstairs bathroom!" I yell at them. Suddenly, they are all awake. "I call dibs!" They all scream at the same time and race each other to get downstairs first. I sigh. Great, it will take all morning in order to even be able to touch the bathroom door nob.

I swear, I've been waiting 5 hours already when in reality it has only been 10 minutes. Oh, what the heck, I'm just going to use the upstairs bathroom; my bladder can hold no more.

After I made sure that my siblings are all still downstairs, I quickly grab the door handle and twist it open, but the image I see will haunt me for the rest of my life.

My mothers dead body. I swear I almost screamed but then I remembered that I wan't supposed to be in here in the first place. I quickly and quietly walk to her, tears swell up in my eyes as I stare at her awfully pale face. I look at what she is wearing, then I notice a bulge in one of the back jeans pocket. I quickly pull out what seems to be a note, or more like letter. The saddest part, it's addressed to me.

Dear Amy,

I hope dearly that it is you that is reading this and not your dreadful father. This letter will serve to be my last Will. Your father is never to find this letter, for it will also hold the reason to my death.

You see, Amy dear, your father and I have not been getting along lately, and last night, when he finally passed out, I grabbed his phone to go and charge it, only for it to start ringing. I quickly pressed answer, as to not to wake both you and your siblings, but I had not checked the callers ID. A women's voice came on.

She started screeching and screaming at me at me in her whiny voice the minute I pressed answer. I didn't catch all the words that she screeched at first, but then she broke down sobbing and one of the last things I heard before I hung up were the words, "Fred, I told you we should have used protection last month, now I have awful news, I'm pregnant a-" That was the last I heard before I hung up.

Please don't hate me, but the reason I am where I am is because your father cheated on me and got another girl pregnant! I couldn't deal with the heartache and so I took the easiest way out. I know what your thinking right now, I'm such a coward, and I agree with you. You have every right to think that.

As for the Will part, you will be passed down all my belongings. Whatever you don't want it will be your choice to decide what you want to do with them.

As for the money problems, all my money is to be split equally between your siblings. You will get the belongings and your siblings the money. Your father won't know about this Will, but I had already sent the lawyers an E-mail that contains my last Will. They will take care of what your father does and doesn't know.

Please find it in your heart to forgive me, remember, that I love you all and to take care of your siblings. Be the mother that I could never be.

Love,
Your Mother

My eyes were dripping wet with tears by the time I had finished reading. I couldn't believe it.

My mother had gotten pregnant with me at the age of 18, I was now 12, so she killed herself at the age of 30. Once my mom discovered that she was pregnant, she wanted to keep me, so my parents were bound to get married. After she had me, my mom got pregnant again, with my little sister Brenda who is a year younger than me. After waiting another couple of years, my mom got pregnant again but this time with my little brother Parker. Parker is a trouble maker and is now 8 years old. Then, she got pregnant AGAIN with my little sister Sophie, who is 6 years old.

My parents likely didn't get married out of love, it was more like they were forced into getting married by their parents.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the sounds of bickering from my siblings coming from downstairs. I quickly grabbed my mothers phone, since it was part of her belongings and yelled for my siblings. "Guys! Get up here!" I yelled at them.

They all quickly rushed up here to see what I was yelling about. When they got to the bathroom, there were absolutely no words to show how shocked they were.

I quickly grabbed my mother's phone, which I know guess belongs to me, and began dialing a certain number. "Hello?" Picks up the guy from the other end.

That guy was my grandfather, my mom's dad. "Grandpa, I really don't want to be the one to give you this news, but my mother is dead." I say into the phone. I'm met with silence. I'm about to speak into the phone again, when I am met with a loud banging on the door and my fuming father walking through. "I thought I made it as clear as glass that the top floor bathroom was completely off limits!" He yells at us.

We all flinch. He has yelled before, but never this loud or at us. My siblings and I all cower in fear. I make sure to hang up the phone so grandpa doesn't hear any of this. My dad stands there fuming at us. "You guys need to learn respect!" He screams at us. He takes off his belt, throws his hand back, and swings.

---------

I gasp as I wake up drenched in sweat and an aching feeling in my abdomen. I try to move but my muscles start groaning in the process (Metaphorically speaking of course). I gingerly lift my shirt to see almost half of my lower abdomen covered in Blue bruises from when my father came home last night.

Ever since the that dreadful day five years ago, my father had started to beat me and my siblings, and he also started to bring more and more sluts and whores alike.

I know, that's harsh of me to be calling older women those types of names, but they brought it upon themselves. If you met them you would be thinking the same thing.

I mean, they know that he has four kids and all, but they still spend the nights sleeping here, and worst of all, he sometimes does two at the same time.

Don't even let me get started on the noises. The walls were never very thick, even when my mother was alive, so everything, and I mean EVERYTHING is heard.

After the first year after my mothers death he had gotten over 20 women pregnant, but of course they all got abortions. Sad to say the least. All those lives lost because neither the female nor my father could step up to take the place of a worthy parental figure.

I snap back into reality when I get a glimpse of my clock. It's 6:30. I should be waking my siblings up. No matter how early I wake them, they always somehow get to school at the last minute.

I use the last bit of force that I have to push myself up. I go into the hallway bathroom, limping the whole way. My father never uses this one since it's where the 'incident' happened.

I walk in, turn on the shower, and then lift up my shirt. I gasp upon seeing my abdomen. The whole thing was covered in bruises and there was a new scar that stood out from the others. He had found a new way of torture last night.

He took a very sharp knife, put it over a fire, and dragged the knife from right below my chest to right above my belly button. He almost did the same to Sophie, but Parker got in the way. I would have took the blow, but I was almost passing out from the pain and blood lost.

Luckily, though, he was very drunk and just ended up passing out before he could do any real damage to me and my siblings. I always try to be there for them so that I can protect them; trying to be the mother figure that my mother wanted me to be, but there are some times where he gets his hands on them when I'm at 'work' or even at school sometimes. I always regret leaving them alone with him when I see the damage he created when I get home.

I get into the shower and instantly relax. The warm water cleans all of my wounds and the heat is just a bonus. I walk out after around 5 minutes in the shower. I know that I can't take that long or else we will run out of warm water. Money is tight at the moment.

I get out wrapping a towel around myself. I open the cabinet door that has a mirror on it open and take out some alcohol. Dripping some of it on toilet paper, I try and clean my scar since I didn't get a chance to last night.

After changing into comfortable clothing and discarding of the toilet paper I go into my siblings room and turn the light on. "Time to get up guys." I tell them. They groan and then race each other to the bathroom.

I walk down the steps and into the kitchen, where I can hear eggs sizzling on the pan. I mentally roll my eyes. Whenever one of the bimbos wakes up, they always end up making their way into the kitchen to make breakfast and to try and impress my father.

I sigh when I walk into the kitchen, only to *surprise, surprise* there was another bimbo making breakfast. This one was a brunette. Not his usually style, but she was curvy and had the right body parts to impress him.

"Get out." I tell her as firmly as possible. She looks at me with disgust, probably thinking I was also another one like herself when in fact I was still a Virgin. Heck, I hadn't even had my first kiss yet.

"Who the hell are you?" She growls at me. I roll my eyes at her making sure she can see it. "I'm the daughter of the man you just slept with, so goodbye bitch." I tell her. I see her look at me with disgust one last time before turning around and walking out the door, but not before making sure to slam it as hard as she can. Shit.

"Damn it! Who was the idiot who slammed the door shut?" My dad screams, disoriented from the alcohol still running in his system, and the fact that he just woke up.

"One of your sluts!" I shout back at him.

"Shut up! They aren't the sluts! You are!" He yells back at me.

I sigh and roll my eyes then turn back to the stove. Thank god that he is still tired and has gone back to sleep. I think.

I quickly turn off the stove and walk over to grab some plates from the cabinets. I serve an even amount of eggs for my siblings before grabbing an apple for myself.

I finish the apple and throw out the core. I turn around about to go up the stairs to get my siblings when my dad appears in front of me.

Damn it.

"Amy, what did I tell you about slamming the doors and yelling back at me?" He asks in his horribly sweet voice. I visibly gulp in fear. He never uses that voice unless he's planning something.

"You t-told me n-not to slam the d-door a-and don't t-talk back." I stutter against my Will.

"And what was it that you did?" My dad booms his voice at me. I really hope my siblings took the hint and stay hidden in their rooms.

"I-I d-didn't do i-it."

"Bitch! Don't you dare yell at me!" Alright, I admit, I did yell back, but it wasn't I who slammed the door shut. I didn't know what to do right now.

"Bitch! Answer me!"

"You t-told m-me n-not to." I stutter.

Before I could even finish my sentence though, a fist collided with my face. "Don't talk back!" He screams at me.

Now, I know what you are thinking, shouldn't I be fighting back? Well, I think so too, but my father, even if he is a drunk ass still has full authority of me and my siblings. If I go to the police, they will take me and my siblings to child services. I don't want to be separated from them.

Call me selfish all you want, but I talked to about it to my siblings and they totally agree with me. I'm a mother figure to them now, not a sister.

Also, if I try and go fist to fist with him, he will still beat me. I am an undefeated fighter at the underground, but I never use violence unless as a last resort.

The reason I streetfight is because it pays well. Tonight I have to go since it's Friday, and I have to go every Friday to keep paying the bills on time. It does pay more than enough, but my dad spends most of his money on Beer, and other stuff that makes him high.

I am snapped out of my day dreaming wen another fist collides with my abdomen. The part that was badly bruised. I gasp and stumble backwards falling over. I try to protect my head and my stomach the best I can, but my head still slams against a counter before I fall to the floor.

The last thing I see before I black out is my brother hitting a pressure point in my dad's neck and him slumping to the ground.

Yay! First chapter of Broken Streetfighter!

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