Chapter 11

Lilly's POV

    A parent's love is the kind of love that has no beginning and no end. It has no limit, and no explanation. If someone ever asks you to explain why you love your child so much, there will never be enough words or ways to explain it, because you don't even understand it yourself.

     I know all of this personally, because that's the way I loved my little girl. She wasn't even able to tell me she loved me back, and I hardly got any sleep for those three months, but I loved her beyond words and beyond imagination. And they were the best three months of my life.

    But my parents have never loved me that way, especially my dad. I can remember being four years old, and overhearing my father tell my mother he never wanted a child in the first place, he just wanted her to stop nagging about wanting to be a mother. She loved me, but she would always love him more, and she would never stick up to him. I wasn't worth the fight it would cause.

The first time he laid his hands on me I think I was ten or eleven. We were walking to the dinner table to eat, and I accidentally stepped on his work shoes. I turned around to say sorry, and he gripped me by my arms and through me against the wall, then told me to use my eyes better. I laid there crying and trying to catch my breath from having the wind knocked out of me, and I could hear my parents cutlery scraping across their plates while they were eating without me.

That hurt me so bad, but made me feel like if I could work myself so hard and do so much good that he would have no choice but to love me and be proud of me. He would have no reason to hit me anymore. I made straight A's all throughout school. I always used my manners, and was good to everyone. I busted my ass at every sport I could possibly play, trying to be the MVP, so that if maybe everyone thought I was the best, he would too.

But none of that mattered. He would always find something to be mad at me about. 'I went in your room this morning and your bed wasn't made, stop being so damn lazy.'

I could bring him home a report card of a 3.9 GPA and his response would be 'If only you were fucking smart enough to stay out of the way.'

When people were around though it was a different story. I remember Sutter's mom asking him one time why he never came to my games, so the next one he showed up to and screamed and cheered for me louder than anyone else in the stands. I remember feeling pure joy, that he finally was happy and proud of me. Something had finally broke through to him and he would stop acting like he hated me.

We got in the car that night to drive home from my game, and I asked him if he was going to be at my next one. His response? 'Hell no. I wasted three hours of my fucking time to be here, and now I'm way behind work. The work that helps pay for all these sports you want to play. So you tell me Lilly, what's more important to you, having family for this money or me being there?"

I told him the answer was money, but in my mind I was thinking I would trade all the money in the world for a father who truly loved me.

Sutter and our treehouse were my escape and happy place when I was younger. And then as we got older and were a couple, his kisses and reassurance were what kept me going. Him telling me he loved me was always the best part of my day, because I never heard it from anyone else.

I never had the guts to tell Sutter and his family what my dad did to me. People don't understand the fear that eats inside you, at the possibility of people knowing. You never know if something would be done about it, and then my life would only get worse if he found out I told but he didn't get in trouble. And then there's the worry that no ones going to believe you. It's a kids word over an adults, an adult with power in this town at that.

I learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut, and to take the beatings in silence. Sutter often times asked me what all those bruises on my body was from, and I always blamed it on sports injuries or me being clumsy. He never questioned it, and it was a blessing in disguise when I got pregnant and was able to move out. I never had to worry about what I was going home to that night, or if my baby was safe.

People around this town always thought I had it easy, because my parents had money and I lived in a beautiful house. But no one ever looked close enough to see just how ugly it was on the inside.

•••

My dad looks at me with pure hatred in his eyes. "The rules are simple; I ask a question, you lie and I hit you. You tell the truth, and I like the answer, I won't hit you."

My body is shaking in fear, and I can feel the panic spreading and prickling my scalp. I'm nauseas and feel like I'm going to throw up any second, but I know that'll just make it worse. Just like trying to run will make it worse too. Because he always catches me, and he always hits harder after he does.

"You never like anything I have to say?" I say back, trying not to let him see how bad he's affecting me.

I can smell the whiskey on him from twenty feet away, and I know the fact that he's been drinking is only going to make it worse. He gets careless when he drinks, and forgets to hit me in places that people won't notice or be suspicious about. And forgets that sometimes if he hits me for too long and too hard, it takes me a while to get back up.

I missed school for a week when I was thirteen one time because he hit me so hard repeatedly that he cracked my tailbone. I told everyone I had the flu. I obviously didn't go to the doctor, but I couldn't walk or sit down without crying for days, which basically led me to my self evaluation.

He laughs humorlessly. "You're right, that's a good point. So I guess you better just hope for the best. Come sit down next to me." He pats the bed like he's being inviting.

I walk over slowly and sit as far away from him as I can.

"First question, when did Sutter and his family come back to town?"

He question throws me off. This is about Sutter? "The first time I saw him was my shift at work on Saturday."

He nods his head. "Okay, I believe that. But wanna know what I don't like about it?"

Please no. "What?" I whisper so quietly I think there's no way he could've heard me.

"That I'm just now hearing about it four days later." And then he moves his arm so fast I don't even have time to prepare myself, and strikes me across the back with the belt.

The lash stings and I want to cry out, but instead I just make a little yelp and hold the rest in. My pride is too strong to let this monster know he continually gets the best of me.

"Next question, how many times have you seen him since they've been back?"

I try to think and say the first number I can think of. "Three." I don't know if it's true, I think it's actually more. But I didn't want to wait too long to answer and risk getting whipped twice.

But that doesn't matter, because next thing I know my dad is lifting the back of my shirt up, and shoving me face down in the bed, and then swinging the belt at me. The metal part hurts the worst, and this time I can't help but cry. He hit me in the same spot, and I could feel the torn skin.

"I said don't lie to me!" He screams at me. "I know you've seen him at least four times! You think I don't have eyes and ears in this town who don't tell me what my slut my daughter is being?" Slap!

"I'm not-"

"Do not interrupt me! My next question is, are you going to make the same mistake you did last time?"

"What are you-" But once again I don't get to finish.

Slap! Slap! "Answer the fucking question!" He screams so loudly I'm not sure how he's not hoarse yet.

"I don't understand what you're asking!" I try to tell him through my tears and screams. I can feel the blood rolling down my back, and soaking into my bed comforter.

"Are you going to make another mistake like you did last time! Are you going to bring another unwanted child into this world?"

My whole body freezes. He did not just call my little girl unwanted. She may have been unexpected, but never unwanted. Never by me or Sutter. And that's what this whole thing is about? He's scared that Sutter is back in town that I'm just going to get pregnant again?

Fuck. Him.

"She was not a mistake or unwanted!" I yell and move myself so I'm standing in front of him. "The only person around here who is a mistake or unwanted is you, you sick fuck!" I scream and push him with everything I have.

I take small pride in the fact that he moved a little when I shoved him, and then I take off running out of my bedroom. I sprint down the hall and run towards the stairs. I hear his feet pounding on the ground behind me. But I don't stop to look back, I don't want to slow myself down.

If I make it out of this house, I have no idea where I'm going to go. I just know I can't be here anymore.

But luck is, like always, not on my side. I make it down the first three steps before I feel his hand reach into my hair and yank me back. My already injured back slams into the wooden steps, and he starts yank me up.

I'm kicking and screaming with all I have inside me, I don't think I've ever been this mad before. Or this afraid that tonight may be the night that he ends my life.

I always say dying doesn't scare me, and may even be welcomed, but the thought of my dad being the one to do it makes it unbearable. I know he would take nothing but great pleasure to get rid of me.

With his hand wrapped tightly around my hair at my nape, he pushes me against the wall and gets in my face. "You think you can really beat me?!"

I spit in his face. "I already have! By not spending my life being some miserable asshole who take pleasure in abusing others!"

He pulls me off the wall and then slams me so hard back against it that I feel some of the dry wall crack. My head is aching so bad I can't even see straight, everything is slanted. But I'm not giving up. Not to him, not to anyone.

I was put through this shit because somewhere out there, someone knows I can take this shit. I'm strong enough to overcome ever obstacle and curve that's thrown my way.

That's why my dad hates me so much. Because no matter how many times he always knocks me down, I rise back up.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that! You will show me respect, whether or not you want to!"

"I only show respect for those that deserve it. You don't deserve shit, except to rot in prison for the rest of your fucking life." I know I should stop talking, I'm only making it worse on myself.

But for too long I've been silent, and a push over. Not anymore. I don't care if he does kill me, at least I know I went giving him everything I had, and never letting him see me defeated by him.

"You always were nothing but a disgrace and a disappointment. You couldn't even have a healthy fucking baby that would actually live!"

I'm frozen. Completely in shock at his words.

I would have rather him lashed me with the belt a thousand times than to ever hear those words come from somebody. Because that is my deepest worry. Why wasn't I able to have a healthy baby? What did I do wrong?

I can't even respond, and he knows he's stumped me. He grabs my cheeks in one hand, and slams me into the mirror on the wall, and I feel my skin tear on my scalp.

The railing for the stairs is right across from the wall I'm shoved against, and I have a sinking feeling he's going to throw me over. I just want to know if he's going to get away with it, or finally get what he deserves.

Will my mom cover for him or will she turn him in?

Is it going to hurt, or will it be too fast?

Will Annie's face be the first one I get to see again when this is all finally over?

But instead of throwing me over the ledge, he just throws me face first into the wood, and I hear the crack of my nose. And when he does it for a second time the pain is so intense and darkness starts to encircle my vision.

And for some reason Sutter's face is the last thing I see before everything goes black.

And the pain finally shuts off.

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