I stay round at my adopted house until about half eleven then bid them all my goodbyes and walk home.

I like walking home at night. It was a warm night as well with a clear sky and a full moon. No sounds. No worries. Just a nice walk. You can clear your head, think happy things, go over the good points of the day or week. Just stress-free. You don't have to worry about accidently knocking someone over. Or when its the right time to cross the road.

I sigh in happiness. My parents won't be home either. Again. Like always. I can just go home and sleep straight away. I'm glad they aren't there. They are most likely at their favourite bar or round at one of their drug buddies.

I roll my eyes at that. I hate drugs. I don't understand why anyone would put such a vile concoction into their bloodstream. I mean they also know it can kill them and it can more quickly then they think, so why do they continue to use it.

The people who also sell it must also be extremely vile people. To put other people's lives at risk just so they can feed their greed for money. Well I hope there is a nice corner for them in hell to roast.

I reach the front gate of my house. I walk up the path and open the door. Only to be pulled in roughly by my hair. I let out a gasp of pain having not expected it and feel myself be thrown against a wall. I look up through dazed eyes to see my mom standing in front of me. My dad standing just behind her, a glass in his hand.

Fuck! Shit what are they doing home so early!?

I know what about to come so I don't say anything not wanting to make them even more angry. It gets worse when I speak or make a noise. If I keep quiet the beating only lasts about five minutes but if I talk without permission then it lasts longer and is more brutal.

"Care to explain where you were?"

Well I say not to speak but I know when they want an answer and when they don't. And this is when they do.

"I was round at my friend house."

"You have friends?! Who would want your pathetic ass being around them. Your trash. Worthless. No one would want you."

This type of shit always got to me though. Beating and abuse I can handle but words I can't. My mental state starts to believe things like this when it's constantly repeated, even if it's not true. I start to cry. I can't help it. You think that I wouldn't give a damn anymore and it wouldn't hurt me deeply but it does. I stand there crying, just wishing someone loved me and wanted me.

Slap

"Stop crying bitch."

But I can't stop. More and more tears stream down my face. They are drunk again like usual but they must not have had a lot of drugs yet. Their eyes aren't glazed over and they don't have that twitchy movement that they get when they are drugged up.

I feel punches along my face and stomach which causes me to fall to the floor where it turns into being kicked. Even though I don't feel the pain, I became numb to the sensation of their hands and feet when I was just a small girl, I curl into a ball to present less of a target and after what feels like 3 hours they finally stop.

"Get out of our sight you dirty slut," My dad spits at me. I don't know what happened to the glass in his hand and I don't try to find out.

They think I do nothing but sleep around after that one time I had been with a guy. Yeah like I'd go back there. That experience wasn't the nicest at all. I slowly crawl up the stairs to my bedroom where I make my way to a corner. I curl up and go to sleep not having the strength in my limbs to get into my bed and under the covers.

Why is my life like this? I wish I could die. I wish I wasn't born.

All the thoughts come rushing into my mind. What did I do so wrong that I'm now living like this? A dancer in a club for men, beaten by parents that are suppose to love you, care for you, support you. If they didn't want kids then why did they have me and keep me? Why did they not just give me up for adoption or something?

I begin to feel the stress of the last couple of days. My body relaxed in my curled state and my mind goes blank. My body welcoming much needed sleep. No more thoughts, no more tears. Numb. Cold. Feeling-less. Just blissful darkness.