The Abused Luna

Serena's point of view.

It all began when my mother passed away. My age was 8 at the time. My father started drinking because he couldn't bear the loss. I couldn't understand what was going on since I was so bewildered. That year, I lost both of my parents. I wasn't hit by him till I was nine years old. A few slaps here and there were the beginning, but it quickly gained momentum. I believed I had acted improperly. Everything deteriorated over the years. I've tried to run away, but every time I do, he finds me. I'm confined. There is no way out. I really am lost.

The sound of my alarm roused me up. I turned it off as quickly as I could. I hastily sprang up and slipped on my extra-large navy sweater. I’m very certain that this was formerly my dad’s. I put on some runners and a pair of leggings. Since it was the quickest thing I could cook, I made him porridge for breakfast today. I’m hoping I can leave the house before he gets up. I don’t want my day to begin with another beating. I simply need a break. It wasn’t to be.

He said, “Where’s my beer, you sl*t?” He approached me with a little bit of a stumble.

Only three cans remained when I immediately dashed to the kitchen. I had a serious problem. Typically, he requested a bottle of vodka and at least ten cans. Only roughly three-thirds of the vodka has been consumed. Where could I turn? I went back to the living room with the beer cans and his breakfast.

He said, “Where’s the rest?”

Naturally, I flinched. He didn’t like it when I made eye contact, so I lowered my head and avoided it. Maybe I could find a way to escape the beating. I held my breath as I said, “We’re low; I’ll get some on the way back from school.”

That’s not good enough, you wh*re, he growled. You useless b*tch, why even do I keep you around?

While he was speaking, he removed his belt and swung it directly in my direction. I couldn’t avoid it because doing so would simply make matters worse. It struck me directly in the face. He yelled at me to go and to wait until I brought him alcohol before I returned. I left the house as quickly as I could after not needing to be reminded twice. His bad laugh could be heard as I was walking away.

Since my mother passed away, my friends have gradually drifted away, making school not much better than home. Who could blame them, after all? Everyone appeared to believe I was useless. They once questioned my well-being. People do not genuinely ask whether you are okay when they do so. You simply have to do it because society expects you to. I used to enjoy going to school because it was my getaway. But after I started high school, everything started to significantly shift. Finally, I was bullied and had lost all of my friends. The abuse continued unabated. I rapidly lost my social standing. When they weren’t verbally attacking me, my lack of friends left me alone and unnoticed. I feel like such a waste of space. I have no place. Due to the beatings, I’ve fallen behind in some of my classes. Either I miss class or I am unable to perform any work physically.