Family Comes First

Chapter 1

*TW: There will be scenes of abuse and self harm in this chapter. Proceed with caution*

Life was never the best for Amara Williams. Living in an abusive household, she had limited clothes, limited food, limited privileges, limited housing, pretty much limited everything.

Born on April the 13th, it has been thirteen years since she was born into the cruel world, the world that just hated her apparently as Amara wasn't good at anything at all. She had no talent. 

She was horrible at maths, couldn't even understand how to do long division properly without messing up. She was terrible at science and couldn't understand what the word to transform solid into liquid was. Was it condensation? She didn't think so. 

Her math and science marks were terrible, barely a passing grade, but Amara didn't care. She knew that she wasn't going to be living a great life when she's older either way. Not with her drunk ass father drinking away money the majority of the time. 

As for her language marks, they were decent, an average grade standing at about 80%. She didn't understand what the heck a gerund was, but at least she could understand the difference between they're, their, and there. 

Her geography and history marks were also barely average grade, just barely scraping one standing at 70%. It wasn't because she didn't understand though. It was because she didn't bother listening to what people did in the 1800 or why the world turned into continents. 

Her P.E skills and health grades were okay, not the best as Amara didn't participate much. That was thanks to father dearest providing her with multiple bruising injuries that stopped her from performing well.

The only thing keeping her from failing elementary school though, was her art marks and the fact that you can't fail elementary in Ontario. 

If she had to say for herself, her art was impeccable, made up of different ideas and imaginative combinations. Art was an escape for her, Amara's way to escape reality as she drew what she felt. If she was lonely, she'd draw a lonely girl. If she was angry, she'd draw an angry girl. It was her way of expressing her feelings indirectly. 

Just because Amara didn't do well in school and was pretty much invisible to her classmates, it didn't mean that she didn't look forward to it. School was the only break she had from her father, which is why she looked forward to it. Now that summer had started though, the beatings were 24/7. 

Amara had no rest, either she did what she was told, or she can be the punching bag. One or the other, it was that simple. 

"Girl!" her father barked, and fear overtaking her, Amara scurried over, head down in a submissive position as her neck barked in pain. 

"Yes, Sir?" she replied, making sure to not stutter. Stuttering makes him feel more powerful, and that will only result in a harder punishment. 

"I want you to clean the entire kitchen. By the time i get home, this kitchen should be spotless." he ordered, coming into Amara's face as she flinched back, his non-alcoholic breath going into her nose.

Her father didn't drink when he was going out, which showed Amara how much he valued his job and living conditions.

"O-of course, Sir." Amara stammered, silently cursing herself for her stupid mouth and fear. 

Luckily, it didn't seem to affect him this time as he didn't bother pointing it out. 

"Mmm. Such a good girl aren't you? Maybe if you were like this when your ungrateful ass was born, your mother would've survived." he murmured more to himself than her as he ran his right hand over his left ring finger, where a ring should've been.