**Hey Guys, so sorry I haven’t been able to upload in a very long time. I’ve been very busy with school, trying to keep my grades up and everything else on top of that :] but thank you all for you support and now, I present to you Chapter 5 of HUSH.
Please COMMENT, VOTE and possibly FAN if you haven’t already.
I NEED FEEDBACK PEOPLE!!
Lol now that that’s taken care of, ENJOY
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(¸.•´ (¸.•' ¤ Danielle = )
Recap of Chapter 4:
-Times up.
My flesh began to sear in pain as if it were on fire. I screamed, jerking forward, feeling my flesh bubble over, killing the life in my skin. The acid he poured sunk deep over my legs, engulfing them in flames, making me feel as if I truly was being burned alive.
I screamed again, aching inside and out for it to stop but it didn’t. A hard blow came across my face. A hand I think. I looked up at my father, seeing him mumble something, but I was too lost to clearly hear him. Black spots covered my vision as I stared at him confused, and sobbing. My face stained with unspoken tears, drained down my cheeks, but the only response from him I got was a thrust to my gut. My body was hurting but that was all I could feel as I blacked out, feeling myself slip from the grasps of hell itself.
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Chapter 5:
When I awoke the next morning my back ached, as well as my head. It seemed that every joint in my body had been broken, or at least that’s what it felt like. My fingers twitched, rubbing against gritty particles. I opened my eyes slightly, feeling the sunlight of a new day leak through a tangible opening of the blinds that lay just overhead of the dark shelving unit. It was too bright, much too bright.
I shielded my eyes instinctively, bringing my arms up to cover my face in a solid movement. Big mistake. With every stride, my arms ached in protest.
The muscles, clinging around my uncalciumized bones stretched, bringing forth the pulling of tenants and joints. Everything clicked at once, making me wince in discomfort. A short gasp escaping my lips as I felt everything unclasp around its death grip hold and then readjust.
This same feeling reminded me of how I used to crack my knuckles. How every finger I pulled out of its socket felt relieved as it was replaced back in its original place. However this was more painful and not the slightest bit of fun.
I began to get up, wincing here and there as I found my balance to do so. My eyes seeking the stairs as I began to wonder what time it must be. It had to be at least 7 if not 8, to which I prayed it wasn’t. –I can’t afford to be late any more days. I’ve had a total of 13 absentee days and about half of those I was admitted into the hospital.
A place I’ve been to so many times these past few years it would be as if I lived there. Practically all of the doctors know me, and would think of me as their own daughter.
My father would always be happy with smiles as the doctors approached, absently speaking of how my features compare to my mothers and how adventurous I am to which led to his greatest cover story.
People who have connections usually don’t speak nor dare to think of a friend abusing his daughter. Having proof that she’s living should be enough my father always thought. I sighed heavily making my way up the stairs, feeling everything groan in protest.
