United States of America

Joined: August 27, 2019

From the North-East
Artist, Writer, Speller, Singer
Play piano (Kinda lame IK)
Reader (Oh my hecc yes)
I speak a mild bit of Spanish too! <3

Message to Readers

Thanks for reading! Check out the next nine chapters! Holy Mackerel! 35 likes?! Can we get to 40? Don't forget to comment, like, and review! Thank you guys so much for the support!!

Past Memories (Sensitivities may be involved. This is your warning)

December 2, 2019


    I could hardly breathe as I heard the creak of the stairs. Daddy was coming up again. I knew he’d have his choice of torture with him. It’s leather worn down after its many uses. His brutal mood plastered to his ugly face. Just as it always was. I never managed to come upstairs unnoticed. No matter how hard I tried, he’d always hear me. 
    “I know you’re here Calli,” Daddy spit as he walked into my room. I cowered in the corner of the closet, praying he was too drunk to search this time. 
    “Come out Calli. You know you can’t hide forever,” he yelled, bending down to look under my bed. I’d hid down there last time, and what he’d done was so much worse than the belt. So. So much worse. 
    Suddenly, Daddy turned to the closet doors. The corners of his mouth lifted in that haunting smile of his. “There you are Calli dearest. Why don’t you come over here.”
    He could see me through the little gaps in the wood. He could see my fear. My tears falling from my cheeks and onto my knees. I shook my head, pleading for him to just leave me alone tonight. To let me sleep for once in my life.
    “I see. I’m gonna have to come to you,” he chortled, that eerie smile still frozen on his face. He sauntered over to the closet, opening the doors in one swift jerk. I whimpered and shoved myself into the wall as if I were trying to be a part of it.  Daddy stood there, the belt wrapped around his palm like a bandage. And for him, it was. It was a bandage for his past.
    For me? Well. For me, it was the nightmare of my past, present, and future.
    “Calli,” Daddy cooed. “My beautiful Calli. We can play this the nice way today, or the hard way.”
    I sobbed. “No. No! No no no.”
    He growled and leaned forward, pulling my hair with his free hand. Sadly, I looked every bit like him. Black hair, blue eyes, and a round face. We were both pale. We looked like we could be from a horror movie. Me because of my scars and bruised face, and Daddy because he was gaunt and almost lifeless. I was unmistakably his daughter. I only wish I could find my Mom. Maybe she’d be willing to take custody of me.
    Daddy yanked me out of the closet by my hair. I screamed in pain, clawing at his hands. Trying to pry them off. To no avail. He raised his other hand and whipped me with the metal end of the belt. I screamed again. The pain never lessened. He never lessened the pain.
    He’d drain me of my blood, sweat, and tears before the night was over. He always did that. Take everything from me. Even the things I cannot spare. Sometimes I think about running. And then I realize; there’s nowhere to run.
    Though I was in my senior year of high school, I had no friends because of what Daddy did to me. I was always scared for their safety. So I always sat in the back corner of the classroom. Ignored people who talked to me. Covered my eyes with my hood. Tried to give the cold shoulder. Tried to disappear. 
    However, there were a few downsides. 
    One: I had no one to ask for help.
    Two: I had no study help.
    Three: I couldn’t do the things I love most, like singing.
    Four: I couldn’t have a boyfriend.
    Though rule four may not seem horrible, I yearn for it. I yearn for someone to hold me. Tell me they love me. Protect me.
    Five: I could never help anyone.
    Six: I could never tell the truth.
    I hate rule six. Everything I do is a lie. To me, and to everyone else. I wish I could tell them the real battle inside me. Wish I could tell them that I’m not who they think I am.
    Seven: Never laugh or smile.
Rule seven isn’t too hard. There’s nothing to smile at. To laugh at. Be happy about.
Eight: Never fight back against the haters.
Nine: Get straight A’s so I can move out and get a life.
    Ten: Never ever, think about Daddy.
    If I thought about Daddy, I would cry. I always cried when it came to Daddy.
    He whipped the belt against me again, shoving me against the wall face first. He tore the back of my shirt open, thumbing the rigid scars he’d made on my back with the belt. “There’s my beautiful little girl,” Daddy said, smirking. “Now hold still.”
    He brought the belt down on my back. I flinched every time he did it. I screamed every time he did it. I knew if I moved, I’d be punished in the worst way possible, so I’d just shed every drop of blood from my body. It was the only thing I knew how to do.

~  ~ ~  ~ ~

    I touch up my makeup. Without the makeup, I’d show the whole world what happened to me every night. I wish I could force myself to do it, but I never could. I was too scared of Daddy. 
    Pulling on a black hoodie, and some black leggings, I headed down the creaky stairs softly. Daddy was still asleep when I went to school. Putting on a pair of black boots, I grabbed my bag and left. If I left early in the morning, I could make it to school ten minutes before the tardy bell. 
    The grass was covered with thick morning dew. The sky was grey and heavy with the long due rain. I set a brisk pace for the school. It was a five-mile walk. I readjusted the bag on my shoulder. Looking at the white cloud my warm breath produced. I let my hair fall across my face, shielding my sensitive eyes from the sun.
    About twenty minutes later, I was walking into the school building. I go to Commonwealth High. One of the biggest high schools in the world. And that never works out in my favor. Walking in, my eyes immediately land on a group of athletes who are stretching. It’s odd that they do that, but they always like to show off their flexibility and muscles. 
    I frown at them, keeping my head cast down. I always get stares, which weirds me out because I didn’t do anything to be recognized. Walking over to my locker, which is the last locker on the left side, I lean against it. I have everything I need, so I don’t open the small compartment. I keep my head bowed down, but watch all the students as they watch me. 
    As if on queue, the bell rang. All the kids raced for their classes, shoving each other to the point that they blocked the hallway. I snorted. I hated school. They should just be glad that I hate home more. I slowly walked over, shoving kids out of my way so that I could get to class. They watched me recede from the scene, their faces donning shocked expressions. 
    Walking into my class, I sat in my usual seat. In the far left corner of the classroom. It was dingy back there, but it made due. The English teacher, Mrs. Wittmer stood in the front of the room, writing our homework on the board. 
    Pulling out my notebook, I scribbled the words down, not really thinking about it. I was in a class with 36 other people. I was surrounded by the bad boys though, so they ignored me half the time. To them, I was a great student. To the good students, I’m a bad kid. Guess it’s just in the genes. 
    I tapped my pencil against the edge of the desk, zoning out. 
    “Ms. Jaspers?” Mrs. Wittmer called. “Ms. Jaspers!”
    Suddenly back in the world, I glanced up at her. “Do you need to go to the nurse?” She asked, worry in her voice. I cocked my head. Though I wish I didn’t have to, I always had to reply to the teachers. 
    “For what?” I asked.
    Nollan, the kid in front of me touched his nose. “You’re bleeding.”
    I reached up to my nose and pulled my hand back. It was covered in the syrupy red liquid. I stared at it. I was so used to bleeding that I didn’t notice it anymore.  “Just some tissues should fix it,” I murmured. 
    Mrs. Wittmer shook her head. “Calli. It’s all over the desk.”
    I looked down at my papers and things. My sleeves were covered in the blood, and so were my notes. I’d never seen a puddle of blood before, but it reeked. Nollan gagged at it. Brenda, the girl next to Nollan puked onto the floor at the sight of it. But none of it fazed me. “Some tissues should fix the issue,” I repeat, monotone. 
    Mrs. Wittmer grabbed the tissue box off her desk and threw it at me. “Go get cleaned up. We’ll be relocated to room 502.”
    Nodding, I left the classroom, stuffing the tissues uncomfortably up my nose. Racing down the hall, I turned the corner. And ran head-first into another person. 
    “Ow!” He yelped. 
    As I fell onto the floor, I could feel the scabs on my back pull apart. The tissues fell from my nose, leaving me to bleed out across the floor. I rolled onto my side, moaning in pain. The boy got up to his feet and stared down at me. “Oh my g-gosh,” he stammered. “I did that?”
    “No, idiot,” I ground out, laying back down on my back so that he couldn’t see the blood. “I was bleeding before then.”
    His light brown hair fell into his silver eyes as he watched me. He was tanned as if he had just come back from a long summer in Florida. “Do you need me to get help?” He asked, worry thick in his voice. 
    “I’m fine,” I grumble,  sitting up again. Keeping my back aimed away from him, I rubbed at my face, wishing the newfound pain to go away. I was always filled with pain. I just wanted there to be less. 
    “No, you’re not. I can seriously see the pool of blood behind you. I’m not stupid.”
    “I just called you an idiot,” I growl, looking up at him from my seated position. “Go to class. Never talk to me again.”
    He frowned at me, shaking his head. “I’ll go get you help.” And then he ran back the way he came, heading towards the nurse. 
    Groaning again, I jump to my feet. I needed to leave. This was not how people were going to find out about my home life. I ran back towards my classroom. It had an emergency evacuation door. It was the only way I could leave unnoticed. Covering my face with my hand, I started the long run home. I hated running, but I couldn’t get caught. Running along the edge of the woods, I hid in the trees every time a car came along. 
    By now, the blood had started to dry, and my wounds scabbed up again. I was not excited to be going home, but I couldn’t let them see me like this. I couldn’t let them see the broken and useless person I actually was inside. 
    Once I arrived at home, I stop running and stare at the chipped white paint. The windows were tinted a yellowish color. From what I knew, the house had been passed on for generations. For all I know, Daddy would be the last to have it. Once he was gone, I’d tear it down. The blue door was to the point of breaking off at its hinges. The house was in terrible condition. 
    I step up to the door and put my hand on the knob. I could already tell Daddy was here. And the smell was what made me finally retch into the bushes.

I swear none of this happened to me. I turned old news reports into a story line and went from there. Don't be alarmed! Please!


See History

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  • JakeFrommStateFarm

    Wow, this is great! It's full of emotion! I really like the idea of using news reports, it's really ingenious!

    19 days ago
  • astrorbit

    Holy crap...

    It's so good, you clearly have talent. I'm so happy you decided to write about this touchy subject, as I haven't seen many writer's write about it. Keep up the good work!

    23 days ago
  • The Great Gabs-by

    I apologise but Write the World has disallowed me from sending you my review. I think you are brave to be writing about this and it's a pity that I can't help you much but I hope you continue to find your own ways to improve even without the review. If you really want to see my review, you will have to contact the editors of Write the World. Keep writing:))

    23 days ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Thank you @ The Great Gabs-by

    24 days ago
  • The Great Gabs-by

    I have submitted a review for this piece. You have a good concept going but you may want to reconsider some parts that seem a bit to exaggerated to be true. Otherwise, I think you have the potential to make this novel a good one. More comments are in the review that will be sent to you soon. Keep writing:))

    25 days ago
  • Charisse Marison

    Wow. Prayers for your friend and her family :(
    I hope her situation gets better.

    about 1 month ago
  • Charisse Marison

    OMG! Is your friend okay??????!!!!!
    I can't imagine ever being in that situation. :(

    about 1 month ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Just news reports. I had a friend who was a victim.

    about 1 month ago
  • V-Rose

    This is amazing. What kind of reports gave you the idea?

    about 1 month ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Thank you a lot @aditi!

    about 2 months ago
  • aditi

    This is awesome!!! It’s the kind of book that makes you hold your breath and worry for the character

    about 2 months ago
  • weirdo

    q&a answers:

    about 2 months ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Thank you sooo much @buddingauthor!

    about 2 months ago
  • buddingauthor

    Reading this made my heart beat so fast! I was so worried for the girl! Awesome job!!

    about 2 months ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Thank you!

    about 2 months ago
  • and-peggy

    Oh jeez oh jeez oh jeez i thought this happened to YOU!! Thank god it didn't...
    also, just a small note: You keep switching tenses throughout this, so you might want to look out for that. Otherwise awesome writing :)

    about 2 months ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Thanks you @Dubhessa!

    2 months ago
  • Dubhessa

    Wow. Super impressed. Great story I love it.

    2 months ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Awe! Thank you Charisse! I'll try to add you somewhere in there LOL. Thank you for reading!

    2 months ago
  • Charisse Marison

    OMG. Throughout the whole story, I felt so horrified for the girl, so horrified at the horrible situation she was in, and how abusive her father is. You did such a good job conveying emotion! I felt so bad for this girl. Gosh, I wish things like this never happened in the world, but they do. I really like the boy at the end and hope they get together! If you keep writing, and please do, just PROMISE me the girl turns out alright! Great job altogether though. By the way, if you ever do give her a friend or something, can you name her after me? I really want to be there for her! Good golly! Only an amazing author could make the readers care so much about a fictional character! But yeah. Please keep writing you're amazing!

    2 months ago
  • AJ - Izzy


    I don't even know what to say! I agree 100% with @ajamwal, this is just wowza!! How did you... I was so captivated by every part!! This is the first I've read, but I am DEFINITELY reading the next ones!! Ah, this is so good, amazing job :DD

    2 months ago
  • FoxLilly106

    Omg Lol.Um.. where do I start? Hehehe... Well, the smell is of her father's rum/liquor. There are three other chapters that I posted on here. If you look for Past Memories in the search engine, you should be able to see them all.

    2 months ago
  • ajamwal ꒰•̹͡ິु•ິू꒱

    Wow, this, this is thrill, excitful, i know i spelled that wrong, and just i don't know amazing, wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, what do i say, i can't express how good this is. wow, can i PLEASE know what else happened, what was the SMELL please please please please comment soon it is AMAAAAAAAAZING please, please please comment on my piece what exactly happened in the end!! This was great I am definetely giving you a shoutout!!

    2 months ago