chapter 1 - bruises

Abigail Jane Winston lived a normal life. Everything below fifteen was a little less normal. Born February 8th, 1998 to parents, Dean Winston and Jeanette Winston, who were both addicted to alcohol - alcoholics. Written in papers and hidden in dusty files, Dean and Jeanette were horrifically abused throughout their childhood. Resulting in abusing their own daughter. Their own flesh and blood. Mainly consisting of verbal, psychical and emotional abuse. One time so horrific that Abigail's left ear half deaf from a fight with her dad last summer five years ago. Abigail never enjoys mentioning her parents, especially her father. Like any abused person would. Jeanette Winston was much more doable, only since she didn't leave her own child half deaf. Abigail had some good-not-abused-memories with her. Unfortunately those were the only reasons as to why Abigail got along with her biological mother.

5:12pm
Abigail breathed in her new environment ever since she left Tulsa. Her auntie Cassandra "Cara" Dawson lived with an abusive mother as well. But she had it much worse. She was blinded in one eye at the age of nine, has a broken thumb, scars and bruises on skin whenever she is exposed expect her pale wrinkled face. What can I say? We are victims. We have survived the living hell of abuse. I and Cara get along well. Having a decent understanding of each other.

I'm in year ten, I've repeated so many times I can't count them all. Mum and dad didn't enrol me in school since I was around eleven which is wired because they can't stand me and you think they would enrol me at school so they could escape for a couple of hours each day. I completely don't understand it. I've repeated numerous of times. Also due to not being enrolled in kindergarten, year one, two, three and four. I've repeated for being late, ditching school, sleeping in classes. I'm surprised I'm even in year ten to be honest. It's a public school. Meaning I can wear whatever I want. As long as it doesn't know that I'm a female and doesn't pinch sometimes eyeball out. It's pretty much the only freedom at school I get to explore. I guess I'm thankful for that. But if aunt Cara had more money and I don't know more of motivated mind I probably wouldn't be at a public school.

I love to wear my black jacket that looks dated back in the 1950's or so. It's literally a jacket that looks like it's from the film 'Grease'. I wish my life was a movie just like the film Grease and I wonder why it can't be. My life is shit and I'm proud to admit it. Just wished I wasn't part of it.

7:01pm
Today is Sunday and all I can think about is just laying here, a total couch potato.

7:09pm - notes
Hair is Raven black, my eyes are dark brown and I'm average size for my year group. Most people call me the 'trouble maker' what ever that means I don't know exactly. I think I've already said slash written what I looked like.

I have trend to repeat myself. As I've heard from aunt Car.

* * * * *

"Abby come over here please" my aunt Cara calls. Her voice sweet but concerned.

I finally move from my stiff position and stand up leaving my lovely small island. I'm so tried and warn out it's not humorous as probably my facial expression can read. I walk over to where auntie yells for me and she's in my bedroom looking at me with disgust. But of course, in her sweet mannered Cara way.

"Abigail, what is this?" She questions holding a pair of jeans.

I shrug looking like I don't know. My most classic move.

"I don't know? A pair of jeans I guess. Why are you all fuss about a pair of jeans, Cara?" I question politely.

She drops the jeans in front of me looking unimpressed folding her arms giving me a big smiley grin.

"Hello Michael. Nice to see you....again" she smiles, the frustration slowly leaving.

My boyfriend Michael appears from behind my curtains looking embarrassed only wearing his boxers. His hands covering the lining of his junk. I still have my confused face expression acting like I don't know what's happening. Not fooling anyone.

"What are you doing her-" I was cut off.

"O' ENOUGH! Abigail Jane Winston! You are such a bad liar. I told you to be back at home before ten curfew without your boyfriend. And you do this to me" she yells softy. That woman manages to yell and still sound like a sweet old lady.

"We didn't do anything....Nothing dangerous anyways" I reply back.

"OHHHH, Abigail! This is your last warning and if you disobey me again I swear you'll get your consequences and you too young man! I may be sixty-five years of age but that doesn't mean I can't go through with what I say. I go by my rules and since you live in this house you obey my rules. Now get dress Michael and you get him out of here!" She says pointing at me with the last sentence.

Auntie Cara leaves us both alone. I look at Michael my arms crossed. When I told Michael to hide and not leave a trace. I don't think he quite got the memo of that sentence.

"I told you to get out by eight! She busted us Mike! Again!" I sigh

"Hey, don't blame me my watch didn't go off. I set it for 7:50am. Stupid watch!"

"Yeah, yeah blame the watch. You know what I blame me! Blame everyone but yourself. Jesus you didn't put on your jeans! What the fuck Michael! You do know no pants means sex right? It's a clear fucking code for adults you idiot!" I yell but not loud enough to escape the walls. If auntie Car (I like to sometimes call her Car. She looks and moves like an actual Car).

"Hey babe. Everything is going to be okay. Your aunt never goes through with what she says. And even if she did she can't control our relationship anyways" Michael whispers. Walking a step closer towards me.

I shrug, he is right about the relationship thingy. But still. We both know that I'm the dominate one in this relationship. Not even that, if I gave Michael the tiniest hint that he is right. I'm done for.

"Just put on your jeans nutcase!" I smile. Michael smiles in return.

"Or we could you know?"

"No you piece of shit. Just get dress. It's bloody 12:01 now get your jeans on" I echo

"So no more sex then? Ok I got it! Woman" Michael whispers back.

"Don't say that" I heavily echo back

"Don't say what?" Michael answers back

"Your a fucking idiot! Get your bloody jeans on or I'll bloody put them on for you" I say

"Try me"

I look at Michael tempted to do it.

"Fuck off! Get your pants on and get out the door in five minutes" I smile existing my room.