Shattered Girl

Chapter 1: It was early evening when I got home from working on my last group project of the year. The house was dark, and the front door which began sticking when a leak in the roof got worse always makes a horrible squealing sound when it's opened. As I turned to close it, I noticed a pile of mail on the small table in the hall. Almost everyone was stamped with a red Past Due, or Final Notice across the front of the envelope. I sighed, setting the mail back where I found it. There was nothing I could do about it anyway, I didn’t have a job, or any money I was walking toward my room when suddenly a searing pain shot through the back of my head, I was thrown across the living room hitting my head on the edge of the fireplace. I screamed as my father landed a hard kick to my side. I just knew this was going to be bad. I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but the room around me was dark and spinning, so I squeezed my eyes shut again. I could smell blood, vomit, and burnt skin. My father must have burned me with cigarettes again. I woke up again sometime later to the sounds of yelling, the noise forced me to try and move before my father spotted me and continued the beating he had started. I rolled onto my side, and pain shot through my ribs and right arm. My face was so bruised and swollen I could barely see out of my eyes. Great, my ribs must be either cracked or broken again, along with my arm, and I was starting to suspect my nose was broken as well. I gave up on moving as the yelling got closer, I closed my eyes hoping that he would think I was still passed out and ignore me. My father ran into the living room with sweat running down his face. It had been a hot day, we could never afford air conditioning, and fans could only do so much. ”You stupid bitch, you got the cops called on me” he yelled as he hurried through the living room, and down the hallway toward his bedroom. The sounds of approaching sirens got louder, and I could hear crashing from my father's bedroom. It sounded like he was moving furniture to barricade himself in his room. My head felt like it was going to split open as the sound of police sirens stopped in front of our house. There was pounding on the front door, yells from police, followed by the sound of the front door being kicked in. ” Fuck, “ I groaned The noise made my head pound, and a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. There was the sound of multiple feet coming quickly down the hall I lay completely still hoping they wouldn’t fall over my battered body as they rushed into the living room. ”Damn it,” an officer cursed as he stopped in front of my destroyed body. I could hear his radio crackle as he shouted orders into it, asking for an ambulance, and describing some of my more obvious injuries. There was a lot of noise coming from the back of the house, but I ignored it and tried to focus on the officer kneeling next to me, hand gently grabbing my arm. ”Miss, miss, can you hear me?” The officer asked, leaning over to look into my face. ”The ambulance is almost here, stay with me for a few more minutes.” He reassured me, sliding his hand across my forehead to move some hair from my face. I moaned and tried to focus on him, but I was in so much pain I closed my eyes, again. I must have passed out because, when my hearing suddenly returned it was to my father's voice telling the officers that I was being a dramatic brat who wouldn’t take her punishment and that I was his kid and corporal punishment was legal. If he wanted to hit me he could. His voice faded as the officers dragged him outside and shoved him into the back of a squad car. Just then the ambulance pulled up and two paramedics rushed up the driveway with a stretcher. I don’t remember much after that, just voices and movement around me, the feeling of a blood pressure cuff on my good arm, numbers being called out, and the pinch and sting of an IV line being started. I passed out when they began to move me, the meds not working fast enough to keep the pain at bay. The next time I woke, I was in a dimly lit room, with the beeping of various monitors nearby. Taking a deep breath was still painful, but I could tell my ribs had been wrapped, my broken arm was now in a splint and was lying by my side, and my face had been cleaned up. My vision was clear now with blood no longer dripping into my eyes. I looked around and noticed a woman sitting in a chair by the foot of my bed. I stared at her, confusion must have shown on my face, because she put down her phone, and stood. Walking closer to me she sighed a look of revulsion maring her perfect face. I had no idea who she was, or why she was in my room. She looked to be several inches taller than me, with perfectly styled hair, and expertly applied makeup. Her clothes and shoes were expensive, as was her diamond wedding ring. ​ ”I’m sorry, who are you?” I croaked. The woman sighed again, the expression on her face plainly showing she would rather be anywhere else. ” I'm your mother, Emilia,” she snapped as her phone started ringing. She shook her head and retreated to her chair, grabbed the phone jabing at the screen, and hissing into the phone. ​ ” I don’t know Clint, she just woke up, no she’s not going to be presentable any time soon, she's a mess” The woman who is apparently my long lost mother snapped into the phone. ad.readinkapp.com

When you were hospitalized due to abuse by your father, your stepbrothers rescued and took care of you. “Would you like some help, Em?” Jake asked. I looked up at him to see sincerity and concern on both twins' faces. “I want to try on my own. I need to learn how to take care of myself again, especially since my arm is going to be like this for a while.” I smiled shyly as both guys headed toward the door. “We will be right here if you need anything,” Jake said, closing the door most of the way and leaving it slightly cracked so they could hear me if I called. “Well, here goes nothing,” I mumbled as I began to try and get out of the itchy borrowed scrubs. Yep, I was going to have to suck it up and ask for help. While the bottoms came off with only a little tugging, there was no way I could get the top off. “Hey guys, I’m going to need some help after all.” I called out as I threw a blanket over my lap. The last thing I wanted them to see was my boring white cotton panties. I heard a commotion outside my door. Jake slipped in, slamming the door in his brother's face. I could hear Josh cursing good-naturedly on the opposite side. I giggled as Jake yelled through the closed door, “Next time, brother.” He was grinning when he walked over, squatting down in front of me. “What’s the best way to help, Em? I don't want to hurt you.” “I think as long as I move slow and you don't jerk the shirt, we should be able to get me out of this.” After several minutes of gently trying to get my good arm out of the scrubs, I sighed. “Screw it. Go find some scissors. You can cut me out of the stupid thing.” Jake nodded and began searching the desk that was across the room from my bed. He triumphantly held up the scissors and came back over, helping me stand. “Okay, I'm going to cut along the seam and it should just fall off without hurting your arm.” He began to cut carefully, and a few minutes later the scratchy shirt fell away. I sighed happily now that the stiff fabric was gone. “Here are the clean clothes from Josh. Do you want help with these too?” He set the clothes next to me, waiting for me to decide what to do. “I think I would like to get cleaned up first.” I was glancing longingly at the bathroom, having spotted the large soaking tub and shower. Jake stood, holding out a hand to help me stand. Wincing, I got to my feet and carefully made my way into the bathroom. Jake followed, stopping to wait at the door until I asked him for help. I stood in the middle of the room, taking everything in. The tub was big enough to hold three people easily, and the shower was enormous, with so many buttons and knobs that I didn't think I would be able to turn it on without an instruction manual. I turned to face Jake, my anxiety clearly showing. “I... I... don’t know what to do.” I looked at Jake with tears filling my eyes and my lip trembling. I wanted to take a shower, but with all the bandages and splints I couldn’t do it myself. There was no way I was asking my new stepbrother, whom I had just met that day, to help me shower. That just sounded wrong. Plus, he would see all my scars, and I didn't want him to pity me more. As I fought through all of the thoughts running through my head, Jake came up to me and gently enveloped me in a hug, kissing the top of my head and making shushing noises as he held me. ad.readinkapp.com