welcome to the family [eminem]

Chapter One

Chapter One



*LEILA'S P.O.V.*



It all started when I was only three years old.

*FOURTEEN YEARS AGO*

"Bath time!", Mother said, lifting my three year old body into the tub. I giggled, splashing around as she filled the tub. I grabbed my bath toys as they started to float away from my grasp. I turned my attention back on Mother, as she smiled oddly at me, then turning the water knob to full speed. The water came gushing out, filling the tub higher then I've ever taken a bath in.

The water started to reach my neck, and I looked at Mother with wide eyes of horror. She just grinned at me, occasionally laughing and it was a scary laugh. The water still gushing out of the pump, I tried to stand up, but slipped and fell. I hit my head on something really hard, then fell both underwater, and into the darkness.

*PRESENT TIME*

Ever since then, my life became a living hell.

Everyday I have my 'punishment for living'. That's what Mother calls it. She comes in my room, around the same time, but makes sure Daddy isn't home. Then, she tries to hurt me in any way possible, besides killing. That'll get her in big trouble.

Oh, and I'm not allowed to say anything to Daddy, or the police. I'm not even allowed out of my own bedroom, which is the size of a small closet. Not to mention that I'm seventeen years old.

I've never been schooled. I have no friends. I don't even want to know where the rest of my family is.

I have a sister, well, I used to. Something happend to her when I was seven. She was the only one other then me and Mother in the family that knew about my abusing. Daddy had and still has no idea.

I sighed, glancing at my clock then at the floor. I hopped onto my bed. Mother should be coming in soon to give me my beating. Sometimes, I feel like it'd be better off if I never existed. If I was never alive. I know people shouldn't say that but still...

I ran a hand through my jet black hair. I looked at the clock again, 3:10. What's going on? She always came in at 3. I got up and pressed my ear to my door, trying to hear in a conversation between Mother and Daddy.

Oh, Dad was home. No wonder she's not in here yet. Most people think that, hell, I'm seventeen years old, why don't I just move out? That's the thing, I can't move. I can't leave my mother's presence.

"YOU WHAT?", I heard Dad scream from the kitchen. I winced. I never heard him scream like that before.

I heard Mom mumble something before my Dad started screaming again. I knew this was about me - it always was. All they do is fight about me, about my career, about my schooling. Most of the time Dad tried to get me out of the house. He tried to put me in school, he tried to let me have an inch of freedom. But Mother always went against it. She always does.

I felt tears threatening to spill over once my Mom said about how much she hates me. What did I do wrong?

I turned away from the door and looked at the window. I need to get away. I really do. I've always been too scared to run away. Sometimes, I got so afraid that I think Mother might even kill me. But she won't be able to find me. No, she won't.

I flipped the lock up quickly but quietly and pulled the window up. The smell of fresh air hit me and I smiled. Fresh air is something I don't breathe in much. The air in my house is rotton from all the horrid food I've been wasting.

I pulled the screen up as far as it could go. Checking back at the door to make sure no one was coming, I slid one of my legs out then the other. I stuck my hand in my skinny jeans pocket and pulled out the money I held secretly. I had twenty bucks, which can buy me food for a month.

I slid my back against the house and looked over at the front porch. No one. I glanced at the windows, which I didn't really need to noticing that they're closed. Then, I started running. I ran as far as my legs could take me that day. Right off to New York City.



-



I kicked a small rock as I walked through the surprisingly clear streets of New York City. My home wasn't very far from here, only about two hours away. I looked up at all the buildings and structures.

"This is amazing.", I said to myself. Finally. I was away! I don't have to put up with any more torture, beatings, and just living in hell.

I wonder what Mother is saying. Does she regret punishing me for nothing? Or is she in her Range Rover looking for me, just for me to get beat again? Or did she actually realize she loved me?

My thoughts kept me company as I dragged my legs looking for shelter. I didn't even notice that I was extremely tired, not to mention weak. I was just too happy to even think about that.

Maybe Daddy is looking for me. I knew he always loved me. He'd tell me he did, right before he left for work. But he came in my room, since I wasn't allowed to come out. Or maybe he was lying to me all along, lying all about the 'love' he showed to me and was just going along with Mom's plans.

Mom's plans was to keep me home, just like I was until I was forty-three. Then she would kill me. She'd kill me because that's the age that her mother died. I refuse to call her my grandma, I didn't even know her. Plus, if she came from Mother's side she was probably crazed, just like Mom.

I finally stopped under a large building with a little shack over it. I sat down, relieved to be off my legs. More people started to walk now, and by an hour later the sidewalks were mobbed with people. I got kicked a couple times and it hurt. But it was nothing compared the beatings I took at home.

I stared at my black and blue arms. There wasn't a spot on them that was normal human color. Everything was an abnormal color. For an arm, at least.

I sighed, this time more happily. I can't believe away, gone from all the suffering I had to experience at home.

I'm away.

I smiled at the feeling of having freedom.

"Leila Monroe, you're free."

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Helllo! Hope you guys liked this chapter. I honestly didn't like this chapter, maybe bc it's the first. the first chapter is always hard to write.

PLEASEEEEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE vote or comment. Leave your opinions! I'd appreciate it soooooooooooo muchh!

oh, and, in case you were wondering, Leila is pronounced LEE-LUH. :D

-Jessica