Verity

Him

THIRD PERSON POV
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EEEP! EEP!

Verity Johnson wakes up to her alarm. She smacks it and groans, rolling out of bed. Today was Wednesday, and she had to go to school.

She got up and showered, using her vanilla - scented shampoo & conditioner. If there was a perfume she owned that smelt like that, she would use it Every. Single. Day.

Once she got out, she looked at her body in the mirror. There was bruises everywhere- her body looked black and blue. There was plenty of scars all over. It was a horrible sight. There was a scar across her lower stomach, long and thick, and very visible through the bruises. They were all caused by her adoptive father- John Johnson.

He was an alcoholic asshole. He abused Verity for years, 13 years to be exact. Verity didn't even know why he adopted her in the first place- he went on everyday about not wanting her, about hating her and wishing she never existed. They were fairly poor, too, so there was never reason for him to have adopted her.

Verity sighed as she grabbed an oversized grey hoodie and pulled it over her head, wearing some black leggings with it. She looked at her neck and face, which had bruises from last night.

Flashback starts.
"You're nothing but a worthless whore!" John yelled, slamming the door behind him as he entered her room. He had a bottle in his hand, and smelled like shit, indicating he was drunk.
Verity was sitting on her bed when she got thrown off by John. He grabbed her by the neck and threw her against the wall, hitting her repeatedly. She showed no emotion to it -she didn't beg him to stop. She didn't do anything. That made him more mad- so he choked her. He grasped his hands around her neck, squeezing it.
Yet, she didn't say shit. Just dealt with it. Until he broke his bottle against the wall and traced her neck with the shard of glass from the bottle, slowly adding pressure. Eventually, she let out a scream of agony and he finally let go, grinning. He knew he broke her. He knew how broken she was. He was happy. Verity lied on the floor until she finally got her body moving to her bed, and let sleep take over her.
Flashback over.

Verity sighed as the memories from last night replayed in her head. She covered the bruises with concealer, and headed downstairs slowly after grabbing her bag. She quietly opened the door and walked out, trying not to make a sound and wake John up, who was sleeping on the couch, bottle in hand.

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Word count: 432
This was a pretty short chapter, I just wanted you guys to have a little insight before we really get into the story.

Please vote lovelies, hope you liked it!