I look down at my phone when I hear the 'DING' that means I received a message. When I look down I see it's a picture and message from Nathan. The message says

And it was attached with a picture of all my siblings, Candace, Keith, Johnny, and Hayes all in their snow gear surrounding a wonky looking snowman. I smile down after seeing the cute picture and reply.

After the message sends, I put my phone back into my pocket and continue packing all my stuff. It's currently 11:00 a.m. and I just got off work. I'm back at the house franticly trying to distract myself.

I have to meet my uncle at his house at 12:00 and I'm so nervous, I haven't stopped moving since I got home. I know I have all the money I owe him, but I trust my uncle about as far as I can throw him. And when he's mad about something he wants revenge. It's not that I'm exactly worried about what he's going to do to me because I've been through enough that whatever that man says or does barely even phases me. It's that, Nate has been been on my butt to answer his questions and I don't think I would be able to hide it from him if my uncle did something really bad to me.

You just need to go in, exchange the money, tell him you're even, and walk out. Easy.

Ha! Easy? When has anything with my uncle ever gone according to plan.

Sighing at my own inner thoughts, I shake my head and continue packing my backpack full of the money, some water, a change of clothes, and a first aid kit because who knows what will happen.

_____________________

*11:55 p.m.*

I hike my backpack higher up on my shoulder and slowly walk up to my uncle's front door. I don't even have time to knock before the door is wrenched open and I am pulled inside, followed by the loud slam of the door closing.

"You bitch! Where's my money?" Dorian spits out at me, clearly drunk.

"It's ri-igh-tt he-rr-e Unc-ccle." I stammer out while reaching into the pack and handing him the $200.

I watch as he takes the stack and starts counting. Since he's drunk, I'm guessing he can't actually count it all, but I wait patiently as he leafs through it.

"Well I'll be damned. Your slutty self actually got it all." He replies and tucks the money into his waistband.

"It's all there. Now we are even." I say with more confidence and turn to walk out the door.

Girl! You never turn your back on a psychopath.

Unfortunately that thought crosses my mind a little too late, since I feel a sharp pull on my hair and I am suddenly on my back with my, very angry, uncle standing over me.

"EVEN? YOU THINK THIS MAKES US EVEN? HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT CAN YOU BE?" He bellows down at me, spit hitting my face with each word. Apparently being much more of an 'idiot' than usual, I decide to actually reply to his rhetorical question.

"Yes, we're even. Wyatt took $200 and I just gave you $200." I reply.

His hand is flying at my face instantly. My head snaps to the side as I feel the sharp pain and a small trickle of blood from his backhand.

"You bitch. So you run off and get a smart mouth. Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me like that?" Dorian says to me and then starts kicking my ribs.

"We are so far from even it's not even funny." He replies, landing another kick directly on top of the other one.

I begin to see black spots cloud my vision and all I can feel is pain, but I don't give in, knowing that being unconscious is a hundred times worse. He begins again.

"I raised you after your idiot parents were killed. I didn't have to do that but I did because I'm a good fucking person." He says.

Good person my ass.

"I took in you bitch and your bratty siblings even though you are a murderer." At my sharp intake of breath, he seems to get even angrier.

His attack on my ribs moves to a few punches to my face before going for more kicks on my stomach. Each kick and punch gets harder as he says his next words.

"YOU. ARE. A. MURDERING. LITTLE. BITCH.

YOUR PARENTS DIED BECAUSE OF YOU.

IT'S. ALL. YOUR. FAULT.

AND NOW I'M FORCED TO DEAL WITH YOU." His hits, finally stop after his last word.

I can feel the pain all over my body and blood trickling down where he hit more sensitive spots. The physical abuse means nothing to me, but his words hit home.

Your parents died because of you. It's all your fault.

Out of everything he's done to me, those words are the only things that ever ring true because I believe them. It's my fault and nothing anyone says can change that. I quickly will away the darkness threatening to consume me and focus back on taking the punishment a murderer like me deserves.

"This isn't over. You owe me." He spits out.

Right as I'm ready for more, he gives me one last kick and walks out the door. Leaving me laying in a pool of my own blood and tears. I try to stand but the pain takes over and the darkness I had been fighting back consumes me. The last thing I hear before my consciousness leaves me is my inner voice.

It's all your fault.

__________________

*3:47 p.m.*

Hearing a noise, I slowly blink my eyes open and am hit with a blinding ray of sunlight.

Where am I?

Ignoring the throbbing pain all over my body, I sit up and look around. The old armchair, the dusty couch, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes.

I'm home?

Suddenly the events of the day come rushing back to me. The exchange, my uncle being mad, kicks, hitting, his words, Nate and the kids coming home.

Oh my god! Nate and the kids!

I quickly stand up and push away the black spot racing around my vision from the pain. I look at my phone that was next to me and see I have 5 missed messages, all from Nathan. I unlock my phone and pull up his messages. The first four are just different pictures of the kids and him throughout the day but the last message is what has me ignoring my pain and racing out the door to my car.

I pull into Nate's driveway and let out a relieved breath when I see he isn't home yet. Deciding they could be back any minute, I run into the house and go to my bathroom. Looking up, I finally see myself in the mirror for the first time. I take in a sharp gasp as I see what I look like.

My face isn't too bad. I have a bruise along one cheekbone, my nose is bleeding a little, and I have a cut on my forehead that is covered with dried blood. My arms and legs have some various bruises and dried blood, but nothing I can't hide with makeup. It's when I lift my shirt, however, that I see why I'm in so much pain.

The entire right side of my abdomen is covered in small yellow and green looking bruises. My painful ribs on the left have a giant purple bruise all across them and there is a similar one along my stomach. I lightly touch the bruise on my rib and wince as the feather touch makes sharp pain shoot up through my body.

"Oh my god!"

With a wince I quickly shove down my shirt and turn to face the voice standing in my doorway with a look of horror and shock on their face. By their mouth hanging open and the terror in their eyes, the person clearly had just seen what happened.

I am so screwed.