This is quite dark but I have wanted to write something like this for a long time.

I'd appreciate reviews, follows etc and I hope you understand where I'm coming from!

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Anyway, here it is.

"You're worthless"

Push

"No-one wants you"

Push

"Why would anyone want you? A doctor? Ha! Don't be ridiculous"

His face snarled in such close proximity to hers that she could count the beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five-

"Are you listening to me you fat bitch?!"

Step one: Ignore it

Step two: Look him straight in the eye

Step three: For heavens sake, don't cry

You're strong. He doesn't own you. He isn't entitled to a reaction.

The man grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a rough shake. A nail in the wall stabbed her in the back.

Shake, stab, shake, stab, shake, stab, shake, stab, shake, stab, shake, stab.

She imagined the blood oozing out the graze. That crimson colour-the colour of passion, of love, of hatred.

"Now you listen here" He lowered is voice to avoid the inevitable 'concerned' neighbour's knock at the door

His breath reeked of stale alcohol.

"Mummy's not coming back tonight"

Now he had her attention

It's not real. It's not real

It's not real. It's not real

"And you know what that means, don't you"

No. Please don't let this be real.

I promise I'll be good.

I'll do really well in my exams.

I'll do all the chores, I won't go out late, I'll never shout ever again.

"LOOK AT ME!"

She snapped her head so she was looking directly into his blood-shot eyes.

"Please don't" She mumbled incoherently.

She couldn't believe she'd let things get like this again. It had been the same ever since she was seven and mum had brought back Barry from the pub. He had smiled at her and said what a pretty dress she was wearing. She really liked him because he paid her the attention she craved - he said she was clever. When he asked her to twirl, she did. When he asked her to try on a new dress, she did. When he asked her to take her dress off, she did.

As she grew older he become more and more interested in how pretty she was, and less interested in how clever she was. The first time he'd actually… done it she was nine. Her mum was out which meant he had to tuck her into bed. Only, he got into bed with her. The stench of his odour overpowered her safe haven of duvet and blankets. He crawled into the single bed, squishing her against the wall. He wrapped his arms around her and…

Well, she knew the ending. It ended the way it always ended. Her lying on the bathroom/bedroom/living room floor, tears in her eyes and the inability to walk. However, the pain between her legs was nothing compared to the guilt. It was the guilt that plagued her every waking thought. What if her mum found out what she'd been doing? What if she found out what a disgusting daughter she had? What if she found out what a failure she was?

She was twelve now and she wasn't some small, innocent child. That made it worse. She didn't own much, but this secret was her most prize possession and she guarded it like gold.

"Now, do I have to do this the hard way or the easy way?" He said almost gently, flashing his yellow teeth at her.

He slowly place one hand on her hip, the other on her neck.

"Be a good girl, come on now"

She let him take her hand as he led her into his and mum's bedroom.

The familiar choking feeling inside her threatened to rear its ugly head but she forced it down. It was almost easy now; she'd had plenty of practice. Crying means weakness, everyone knows that.

And it was at that moment, in the door way that she decided to prove everyone wrong. She decided on two things:

1) No matter what it took she was going to become a doctor.

She was going to be the best damn doctor the world had ever seen.

2) No-one would ever find out what a worthless little girl she was.

And it was those two things the twelve year old girl carried with her. They were her aims, her goals. No matter what life threw at her she didn't give them up. And now at the grand old age of thirty-five they were still with her.

She never told anyone what they were, not the councillors, the social workers, the doctors. They wouldn't understand. She needed to have control over what she did and if that meant never telling anyone then so be it.

The only thing was she couldn't let them go. She did anything to be the best. Cheating, lying, stealing. You name it, she'd done it. But now, in the cold hard light of her miserable existence it wasn't proving to be worth it.

She still wasn't worth it.

She wasn't worth anything.

She was worthless.