Brianna
I let out a long sigh as I walk through the door of our house, forcing myself not to look back.
It’s just so unreal. He’s my idol… or, my roll model, and has been for literally years. I was seven when his album “Tonight” came out, and I can still remember hearing “Get Back Up” when it was first on the radio. My dad always had K-Love going in his car, and almost every time I rode with him, I heard the song. It was original tobyMac for me. I knew it was by him, and I liked it already.
Around the time “Eye On It” came out was when I was really discovering my love for music. I didn’t really have as much of a taste back then… mostly music was music, but I still loved Toby’s stuff. “Steal My Show”, “Speak Life”, and, especially “Me Without You” were my ten-year-old jams.
And when “This is Not a Test” came out… though it’s hard to believe that was nearly two years ago… was when I was really developing my taste. Figuring out that I wasn’t a fan of the voices of Lauren Daigle, NeedtoBreath, or a number of others, but that I loved people like Britt Nicole, Jamie Grace, Capital Kings, Skillet, the newly-emerging Hollyn, and, of course, tobyMac. It wasn’t until the radio version of “Priceless” came out that I really discovered for KING & COUNTRY, and it wasn’t until Lincoln… happened… that I found Colton Dixon. His songs like “Rise”, “Scars”, and “Never Gone” connected with  me like little else. But tobyMac always came out on top. The first time I saw him in concert, a year ago, with Lincoln, at the Hits Deep Tour, it was literally the best night of my life.
And then he caught me trying to kill myself.
I’ve never really thought about the fact that I live around all of them. I mean, it’s crossed my mind. I’ve seen secular artists that I don’t really care at all about. But, until that night, I’d never crossed the path of anyone who I was a fan of. And then that happened. And I never even saw it coming.
I shake my head slowly as I think about it.
I should have been able to freak out with Lincoln about meeting him. I should’ve been asking for his autograph and struggling not to be too much of a fangirl. But insteead, he was driving me to the hospital as poison ran through my veins and blood rested on my arm, six months after my best friend raped me.
I close the door behind me and turn to go to my room, but my mother’s voice stops me.
“Brianna?”
I inwardly swear. “Yeah?”
She appears at the bottom of the stairs, an accusing look in her eyes. “How are you back so soon?”
“I got offered a ride home,” I reply carefully.
“By who?” she asks, her tone making it clear she doesn’t believe me.
“A guy I met awhile back.”
“How stupid do you think I am, Brianna?” she snaps, coming up the stairs and stopping in front of me. “You didn’t go and we both know it.”
I try to keep desperation out of my tone. “Mom, I promise, I was there! Just call Tiffany and ask her!”
“I’m not going to bother her to prove that you’re lying when I already know you are,” she hisses. “I honestly thought you had learned your lesson, young woman.”
“I did, I swear!” I don’t try to hide the tears behind my voice. “Please, you’ve got to believe me!”
She opens her mouth to respond, but she’s cut off by the door behind me opening to reveal my father, home from work.
She turns to him. “Henry, your daughter didn’t go to dance, but she wasn’t home until a few minutes ago, and now she’s lying about it.”
“I’m not lying!” I beg frantically. “And I did go, I swear! I just got a ride home.”
“Brianna Kelly, I do not know what has gotten into you lately, but you’ve been acting like a straight up heathen, and I will not tolerate it,” he says, his tone terrifyingly level. “Come with me, young woman.”
He takes hold of my wrist and doesn’t let go when I flinch away from his touch, dragging me down the hall and toward their bedroom.
And I panic. I try to jerk away, but he’s too strong.
An image of six months ago flashes through my mind, and I can’t bite back my desperate cry of fear.
“Please!” I beg, not even trying to hold back my tears. “Don’t! I’m not lying, I promise. You can’t… please!”
He ignores me, shoving me through the door and closing it behind him.
With desperation fueling me, this time, I am able to free myself from his grasp, and I lunge back towards the door.
He swears and yanks me back by the collar of my jacket, struggling to hold me for a long moment.
“********* sit still, Bri!” he growls, but I ignore him.
And, finally, his fist connects hard with the back of my head. I crumple under the impact, but he continues to hold me up.
My vision blurs and my head throbs, too hard for me to continue to fight.
Dad yanks off my jacket, and I feel my fear come back in a rush. I try to take a step away, but my knee gives out under me, and Dad’s holding me up again.
“Settle down, **** it!” he snarls.
“Please!” I gasp out. “Please, you can’t do this!”
“I can and I will, young woman!” He shoves me against the bed and pins me against it, facing it, and I‘m too weak to even fight it. “You are going to be taught a lesson.”
Just as I start to get my strength back, he hits me again, this time across the face, ignoring my whimper of pain.
I can feel myself teetering on the edge of passing out, and, as much as I try, I can’t do anything against him.
He reaches behind him for something, and turns back to me, yanking up my shirt. I don’t even try to choke back my sob. I can’t believe this is happening again.
He draws back his arm, and I hear the sound of something cutting through air quickly, before the pain of fast-moving leather connects with my back.
I cry out, but he doesn’t even blink, bringing it up and then back down again.
This is my father. My loving father.

By the time he’s finished, my back in bleeding all over. He releases me, and I pick up my jacket and stagger out the door, somehow stumbling upstairs to my room before I give into the tears, collapsing on my bed to cry.
I can’t believe this is happening.
So he didn’t rape me. But now I’m abused. Freaking abused. By my Christian parents. I hear the lock click on my door and look at my barred window in longing. But I’m trapped. There’s no way out of this living hell.