"Hush." He said after the last time he hit me. My arm throbbed, as did my face, chest, and legs. I didn't let another sound escape my lips. He got down on his knees and his deep crystal blue eyes looked into mine. "Where are they?" He snapped. Weakly, I pointed under my bed. He stood up, and pulled the box of crackers out from under my bed. "What did I tell you about taking food from this house?" He said angrily, his curled fist threatening to hit me again. I cringed, but then I heard the front door being unlocked. I wanted to cry out, scream, anything to get my mother's attention. He got eye-level again with me and whispered, "If you say one word. One word." I knew what the punishment was for talking to her about this. It was so much worse than the beatings.

He left the room, and went to greet my mother. I listened to every lie he told her, like always. "Amelia had a boy in her room today. Yes darling, a boy. I'm sorry if I was too brash, but I grounded her for a month. I think we need to go harder on her this time. Like she shouldn't be able to go anywhere. Yes honey. That's how she keeps picking up all these boys. I hate to say this, but your daughter is quite the little w****." He chuckled. He seemed to find amusement in telling these falsities to my mother.

"Oh Will. I think this is just how she is reacting to our marriage. She was never a trouble child, even after Chris died. Maybe we should have waited longer to get married, baby." Her voice trailed on. I wish I could tell her the truth. That I'm not a trouble child. I wish I could tell her that my hand wasn't broke last month because I was out partying and my drunk friend slammed it into a door. I wish I could tell her that it was my step-father after he hit it repeatedly with a hammer because I was talking on the phone. I wanted to tell her that every word that left his mouth was a lie. What I wanted to tell her most was the fact her new husband wasn't even faithful. He often brought other women in while she was away at work. I wanted to tell her that her 'love' rapes me ever chance he gets. "She even told me the other day that she hates you, and wishes I had never met you."

My heart stopped. I silently started pleading her to stop talking. That he will brutally rape me again if she even hints that I said something negative about him. I could almost hear Will's anger piling up from the other side of the door. I started searching the room for a way out. I couldn't live in this prison for another minute. He might kill me this time. I twisted the doorknob. He had installed the lock after 'I tried to run away while I was grounded.' I went to the window and opened it. I forgot he installed the bars after 'I was sneaking out to prostitute myself out to men.' Frustrated, I sat down into my desk chair. I glanced into the broken mirror. The reason he had told my mother was that he caught me doing drugs, and he threw the box I had them in into the mirror on accident to get them away from me. I remember the real reason it was broke though. The first week of Will and my mother's marriage, my mom got a new job in the city. He spent the entire day, showing me "my place in this household." He threw my diary into the mirror, after reading every passage about my hate for him. That was the first day he raped me.

I could hear my step-father talking to my mother again, but I didn't care to listen. I was shaking. I had never been so terrified in my life. I slowly walked over to my bed and climbed into it. I stared at the clock on my desk. 08:32. Tears rolled down my cheeks, until I floated away into a troubled sleep.

I was awoke then next morning about five by the roaring of the vacuum cleaner. I sighed in relief. My mom hadn't left yet I tried the door, and was surprised when it was unlocked. I silently walked into the living room barefoot and took a seat on the couch. My mother stopped cleaning and came over to me, sitting beside me. She raised her hand to my face, examining the bruises on it. "Dear, Will told me about the fight you got into after school. Are you okay?" I shrugged, not surprised he had already covered his tracks. "Will and I have been talking about it, and we think that homeschooling would be best for you." I looked at her desperately. "I know you've been having a lot of trouble at school lately, and Will has a degree in teaching. It might even be a good way to bring you closer together."

Panicked, I shook my head. "Mother! Your so naive! I don't want anything to do with him! I hate your pathetic excuse for a husband!" I was shaking my head frantically. What was he planning now. This was just another way to hurt me more. Another way always to have me arms length with him.

"All the more reason to do it." His cold, hard voice sent chills down my spine that paralyzed me. Will walked around from behind us, taking a seat in his favorite La-Z-Boy recliner. "This is a better way. So we can get to know each other more. Grow closer, so you wont feel so much hate for me. Amelia, I want to try and start a good relationship with you."

I ran back to my bedroom, slamming the door shut. I hopped onto my bed and started crying. A while later, I stiffened as I heard my mom say goodbye to Will and leave. Not more than two minutes later, he came into my bed room and shut the door. He had that look in his eyes, and that evil smirk on his face. " So, Amelia. You hate me, huh?"