NO ANGEL

By: Louise King

WARNING: THIS IS A HORROR FIC CONSISTING THE WORST KIND OF ABUSE, IF YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE A SENSITIVE PERSON DO NOT READ THIS!

He had abused her ever since she was a little girl. He had in every single way used Angelina’s trust, spinning a net around them both. A net consisting of love and hate, guilt and humiliation, power and violence.
But he is a very important part of her life and he can’t just be “cut off”.
In the hatred there’s also a deep love.
This is her painful way towards a change and an own life.

He touched some places that he shouldn’t have touched,
he did some things to her that he shouldn’t have done…

Cool new story so far. :hi:

Thanx...I didn't know if it was, coming more soon! :hi:

yey!! ANOTHER LOUISE STORY!

LOL...yeah but this is the worst I have ever written...so dont hate me after u read it... :unsure:

how horrific is it?

Very...its gonna be hard to write!

omg. dnt tell me it da dad or bro..........or family

It is...

omg

Oh thats horrible!!! But if its written by you it'll most likely be good. :)

Aww, thanx it will be up soon! :hi:

I'm sure it will be great! :P

hurry

Yeah I want to see what u can come up with this time..lol! :D

Louise, get your butt away from whatever you're doing and type! lol!

Yeah... come on...that chapter was great..post it! There are ppl waiting...lol

plz update!!!!!!

Working on it...

Hey, this is the beginning of my new story!

1. ANGELINA

It all started when I was very small, I think I was four or five years old. I don’t remember so much before that, but he had been good then. He had been caring and loving, like any father really. He told me that he loved me, that I was his little girl. Every father loved their little girl, right? Then why did he do all those things if he really loved me? He was a good person I know that he was. If it weren’t for what he did I would never have to feel this way. What did I ever do to him? What did I do to deserve this? And why, why, why? It has to be me then, that was what I thought anyway. That it was my fault. He wasn’t the angel that I thought he was. I can remember it all now.

A chill sweeps through the room. I’m in my bed, around me there’s a red fence. The chill sweeps through the bed, through the body. The chill comes from me, from inside of me. It’s from the bed. I can feel it now. I’ve wet myself. Sheets, cover and nightgown – everything wraps its wetness around me. I’m a prisoner here. The fence and my teddy bear on my pillow is the first thing I see. But it’s not the fence that I see. It’s what my body does to me that hold me captured.
I can’t help it. I’ve done it a long time – slept so deeply that I don’t notice that I have to pee. It’s nothing more than that.
“It’ll pass”, my grandmother tell me.
Of course it has been hard, it’s not fun to wake up with wet sheets. But when you are five years old you were not supposed to do this. But I always thought that it would pass.
Dad says that it’s a disgrace.
“How dare you”, he asks me. “Why are you doing this?”
Each time my bed was wet he’d scream at me.
It was a Sunday. Mom and dad are breathing heavily in the room outside. So heavy. Breaths, that tells me that I am alone now and that I will be alone for a while in the wet sheets.
I had to do something. I have to show them that I am the big lady now, that I am like the princess in the fairy tale. Like in mine and Susan’s games. In those games I was always the maid. Now I have to become maid and princess in one, I had to get rid of the wet sheets and make myself the dry and untouched. The Big Lady. The Big Princess with the fair hair. The only thing I liked about myself was the hair, I could stand by the mirror and watch it forever. It was so long and soft.
I’m going to show them, Susan and dad and everyone. It is me who is light. It is me who is the princess.
I get up and take off the nightgown and rip the sheets off the bed. I throw the wet disgrace on a heap on the floor, between the bed and the red table.
On the mattress there’s a wet spot. It doesn’t matter. I pull the cover over it – the cover is a bit wet as well – I carefully conceal the wet spot and make my bed. I carry the sheets and the nightgown to the bathroom, putting it into the laundry basket. Now I have to get some new clothes. I take out a red dress and some tights out of the wardrobe. Red is my favourite colour. Susan tells me that I ought to wear blue.
“You really should, because you’re like a boy”, she says and sounds like she’s trying to sell me something. But I love red. What I am thinking deep inside she’ll never know.

I sit on my bed. I’m painting in my book that holds all my paintings. I got it from dad. There are things that I close. I never tell him that I am innocent, that I can’t help what happens at night. He’s never going to buy it. He knows that I am not innocent. Nothing is going to change his opinion. Maybe he’s right, I can’t take away the feeling of him being right. It’s like with my cousin Susan. You have to hide the truth, pretend to like blue instead of red.
Otherwise I might not get to play with her.
I can hear voices now, voices that are asking. It’s a deep voice from dad that covers every sound.
The door opens. It’s my mother. She is standing in her blue nightgown.
“Hello Angelina, are you already up?”
“Hello, mom”.
I’m focusing really hard on my painting. No one can know what I have done. I have a secret and no one can ever know.
Mom goes into the kitchen to make breakfast. Dad comes onto my room.
“We’re going to Susan today, already painting?”
He walks around in my room, as if he is nervous about something, as if he’s waiting for something.
“It smells…sour. Angelina don’t tell me…Move. I said move it.”
I step down from my bed. I stand beside him while he rips the cover off the bed. I hug my book tightly and bit into it.
His gesture is angry, his gesture is quick and threatening.
“Shit. Shit. What the hell have you done? Where are the sheets? Have you thought about what you’re doing? You’re shitting down all our sheets that what you’re doing.”
He looks at me and I’m shaking now. I have nothing left. No secret. No protection. No good dad. My body has made him like that. My body – the traitor – made this and drove him away from me.”
“Come here. Come here Angelina”, he says.
He’s going to hug me and comfort me. I fall into his arms.
But his hand grips my neck, it’s like being trapped because he is very strong.
He pushes my head down into the wet spot on the mattress.

We’re standing outside Susan’s door, dad has a white jacket and mom has a light blue dress.
“Remember to say hello Angelina, say hello to Susan’s grandmother.”
He holds my hand in a hard grip, it almost feels like my fingers are going to break.
I deserved this.
Susan’s grandmother opens the door and I say hallo and take her hand.
Susan waits inside.
On a table there is food. I don’t feel like eating. After the first few chews my stomach feels full.
“When we’ve eaten we can play”, Susan tells me.
“It will take time for Angelina”, dad says.
He is glaring at me. I only hurt him. But I try do hurry.
“We have a problem”, dad says. “Angelina wets herself. It can’t be normal”.
He just says it like that, in front of everyone.
“Do you really wet yourself?” Susan asked a bit amused.
I can hear the others mumble, I’m sure it’s something about me.

Then we go out and play.
We sit down on the swings that take us higher and higher.
Susan dares more than I do.
Dad tells us to come in.
We jump down from the sways and this time I decide to beat her when we run to the building. And I beat her.
“I won”, I screamed.
Finally. The first time I’d beaten her.
But I can hear Susan behind me breathing heavily.
“You did not, because I don’t compete” she says.

oooooooooooooooooooooh her dad is horrible...........

yeah I know...

Creative first chapter! Her dad is a bastard

Yeah he is...

HE SHOULD DIE!!!!!

Aw.. Poor Angelina. :( Great first chapter though!!! :)

Thanx...it'll get worse though!!!!

I agree with Marie...he really should DIE! But it's good!

Please write more!