Taliah is abused by her step father, her mother has committed suicide when she was five. All Taliah has ever know since she was little is to stay out of sight and stay alive.
As Taliah says 'The walls you build don't block people out, they keep you...
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I woke up in pain. Pain physically. Pain emotionally. Pain and fear are the only emotions I have felt these past ten years. I pushed the thought aside and strained my aching and bruised body off the stained and ugly mattress I used for a bed.
Today was Saturday. I hate Saturdays. 'Oh, but you're a kid all kids love Saturdays!' Well, all kids don't have an abusive stepdad that blames you for your mother's death.
Let me do a quick backstory, I'm Taliah Waters, I'm 5'6 I have one blue eye and one brown. my mother died of suicide when I was five. Ever since then I've been in the custody of Nigel Waters. My wonderful stepfather. I've been abused by him for ten years and here we are.
But it's whatever. It doesn't matter now. Nothing does anymore. I quietly walked to the bathroom with my t-shirt and leggings.
I took a cold shower since we don't have hot water right now I changed into my clothes and went downstairs to make him breakfast.
I grabbed the two eggs we had left and the soft tomato from the back of the fridge. I fried up some bacon that expires in a few days and made an omelet.
I hadn't eaten in three days and surprisingly I was starving. I usually have the appetite of a sick little girl. I set the plate down and went to the cabinet to grab a piece of bread.
Just before I could devour it a deep scruffy voice halted my movement.
"What do you think you're doing?" He asked.
"Nothing sir. I was about to plate your bread to go with your omelet and bacon." I said as I put the bread on the plate.
"Liar!" He roared. Within a split second, the plate was broken and the food was on the ground. A shard of glass had cut my leg which also cut my leggings. Yay.
"No wonder your mother killed herself. I would do the same thing but we don't want you in one of those foster homes now do we?" He asked. He pushed me to the ground thankfully I fell to the opposite side of the glass.
He then stomped on my right ankle which resulted in excruciating pain. It immediately started swelling my ankle was turning blue and a few bones were pushing my skin making it look deformed. Broken nothing I can't handle.
"Your nothing but a terrible excuse of a human! I. Hate. You." He said as he kicked me in my ribs the pain was unthinkable.
My head was aching, my ankle was throbbing, and my ribs were bearing with every shaky breath I took. I wouldn't be surprised if I had died right there.
"Get up and go clean yourself. And go to the store." He said as he threw a ten-dollar bill on the floor.
He walked away while giving me one last disgusted look. I fisted the money in my hand and prevented myself not to scream in agony. I gripped the countertop and grabbed the broom to sweep up the glass.
Once I cleaned his mess I crawled up the stairs and into my room. I applied numbing cream to my ankle as I stifled sobs I tightly wrapped it up with an ace bandage.
Hopefully, I can buy some painkillers while I'm out. I took the rest last night.
I then applied the same cream to my ribs and wrapped my stomach in white bandages. Next was my cut. Thankfully it wasn't long or deep so I applied to rub alcohol and a bandage.
You may be wondering 'how does she have all these supplies?' All it takes is some stolen money and some sneaking skills.
I changed into a pair of jeans I had since I was 9. And a hoodie I had since I was 12.
I put on my left shoe and softly put on my right. I tied the laces but not tightly on my right foot. I grabbed the money from my 'bed' and painfully walked down the stairs.
I had walked a block from the ugly house to the store. I grabbed what he usually wanted me to get.
Chips, soda, and candy. No wonder we never have food, he eats it all.
I also grabbed some painkillers and went to the register. Luckily I had my hood on so I couldn't display the beautiful purple eye I had gotten a few days ago.
The total was 9.59, I gave the cashier the ten-dollar bill and took my bag.
"Would you like your receipt ma'am?" The cashier asked. "No," I whispered.
I quickly took the change and slipped back home as fast as I could. I took the painkillers out of the bag and put them in my hoodie pocket. I unlocked the door and placed the bag on the counter.
"Look we have here." A raspy voice slurred. That voice was none other than Simon. Nigel's right-hand man was also one of my abusers. Remember when I said he slurred he is words? Yeah, he's intoxicated too.
He forcefully grabbed my arm and threw me to the ground. Thankfully the medicine kept the rattling quiet.
He delivered a kick to my thigh he grabbed a knife and put the stove on. He heated the knife and smiled my way.
I wasn't quick enough to run so I just sat there and waited for the pain to erupt through my veins.
Once the knife was heated he pulled up my hoodie sleeve exposing my arm. Before he could put the knife to my arm Nigel called him. He walked in and smirked.
"I see you've started the fun without me," Nigel said. He rolled up his sleeves and automatically punched me in the nose. Blood flew out like a waterfall.
Simon quickly cut me with the hot knife. Before I could even scream Nigel put his dirty hand on my mouth. "We don't want a scene now do we?" His smelly breath sent shivers down my spine.
They kicked and punch me anywhere they could Simon was trying to avoid my face but Nigel didn't have a care in the world. They both kicked me in my ribs then flipped me over and stomped my legs.
I was slowly giving up. My heart was beating slowly, my body was aching and screaming in pain. My mouth was almost unable to move. Then I felt a harsh kick to my head. Black dots appeared.
My head was throbbing, I could feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness. I felt myself slipping away.
Maybe I'll see my mom. I'll be able to say I love you again. Maybe this is goodbye, for good this time.
