Malia is Late

WARNING: This chapter contains the topic off CHILD ABUSE!

-Malia's POV-

After I left Zeref at the store, I ran into the school book shop, barging open the door, the bell rang loudly. Trying to catch my breath, I ran to the counter slamming a sac of silver in the concerned shop owners hand.

"Level 6 magical history book please" I panted out as my heart pounded out of my chest. 'You idiot! How could you get distracted?' I mentally scolded myself while pushing my hair back out of my face and biting my lip in a stressed state. I watched as the shopkeeper went to the back of the shop to get my book. Oh, hurry. Please hurry!!! I tapped my foot, impatiently.

"Hey, look." I heard a creepy whisper behind me. I could feel the presence of older boys behind me, making me even more frustrated. Following the rhythm of my foot tapping, I tried taking calm, easy breaths but was interrupted when I heard a nasty whistle from one of those guys, and footsteps advancing towards me.

A hand snaked its way around my waist and my breath went rigid for a second before I realised this guy really touched a 12 year old like that. I swiped his arm off my waist and maneuvered around him, with two hands I grabbed his neck and twisted him into a headlock before kneeing his back with all my strength. His friends gasped and the boy wheezed from the lack of oxygen. I finally pushed him to the ground and glared at them.

"Did I say you could touch me?" I spat, shining my red fire eyes at him, showing him I was a noble.

I smirked at their change in expression from lustful to fearful. When the boy tried to get up, I put my foot on his chest and he let me because he knew that he would never get away with touching a noble.

"Stay down." I changed my face into an expressionless deadly stare. His friends stayed silent, praying for their friend's fate.

"S-Sorry… I thought you were someone e-else." the guy under me put his arms up to surrender. I clenched my jaw. I HATE liars.

The people in the shop were trembling as they noticed my change of stance. I took my foot off his chest and he quickly sat up. I knelt down to his level and glared into his eyes before forcing myself to speak through my anger.

"Go." my voice came out deep and huskyish, clearly dripping in venom. I didn't have to blink twice; they were out of the shop.

I stood up again facing the counter with my eyebrows furrowed. What's taking so long?! It's one book!!!

"Sir please can you hurry?" I peeked down the long hall of books.

"Sorry miss but we ran out of those books. Our next shipment is on Wednesday. You-" A waste of time!!! I huffed and ran out before he could finish.

I felt bad but I really was limited on time and I used most of it catching up with Zeref. I smiled at the thought of Zeref and his long ass hair but the thought left as soon as it came.

Shit! My breaths came in small spurts. Trying to push myself forwards to run faster, a drop of sweat rolled down the side of my face. No, no, no!!! My nails dug into my palms, curled into tight fists, as I swung them faster to pick up more speed. My feet kicked back behind me and at that point, I was going as fast as I could.

I finally saw my house ahead and sped towards it. I looked at the big clock at the top of the door and felt my heart sink to the pit of my stomach, realising I was 5 minutes late. I stood, glued to my spot, feeling the world spin beneath me. I don't want to go in. Please. I begged myself not to walk in but I knew I had too.

My lip quivered slightly as I shook my head, refusing to cry. Spinning away from the door, I looked out into the greenery, my tears threatening to fall. I felt the pain in my throat itching to be released. Cautiously, I let a tiny whimper escape my lips before quickly sealing my lips into a tight, firm line, looking up and breathing through my nose with my eyes glossy.

'Don't give into the ache, don't give into the ache, don't give into the ache' I repeated in my head as I sniffed, trying to control my tears.

I wasn't crying about the fact that I was late. Jeez, I'm such a cry baby. I'm crying over everything...

I hated feeling like this; the desperate feeling of having absolutely nowhere to turn for solace, and then just having to stand there and experience the anguish, realising that there was nothing you could do. It's the most helpless feeling in the world but... I have experienced it too many times.

I should be used to it.

Get yourself together Malia.

I squeezed my eyes shut and like they were never there, the tears disappeared. Inhaling and exhaling, I turned back to the door in determination. There's nowhere to run; let's just get it over with.

Swinging open the heavy wooden door with all my might, the door banged against the wall and the view of the living room was wide into my view.

To my horror, my father sat in his chair staring at me. My two elder brothers were sitting on the long sofa next to him and one of them (my step brother, Kenny) smirked at me knowing what was to come and my real brother (Mike) looked at me, apologetically because he knew he couldn't stop my fate.

"7 minutes late." my stepmother spoke from behind me, shutting the doors and locking them. My eyes darted around the room as my pulse pounded against my head.

"Malia. What are you wearing?" my eldest step brother spoke, knowingly. I scoffed.

This family can suck a cow.

"You tell me Kenny. You're the ones who shredded all my shirts and only left my crop tops. Pedo." I spoke in a civil tone but anyone could tell I was holding back my monstrous rage. The room gasped but my father kept staring at me.

"Hah. No I didn't. You have no proof," Kenny spoke, evilly. I knew this was my line to stop. I had proof but in no way was I allowed to prove my innocence. I sighed in defeat and my stepbrother snickered.

"Malia, come here." my fathers cruel voice finally spoke. I hadn't even stepped in front of him and I was already shaking.

"I-I'm sorry I'm late. The book was sold out." I squeaked as tears automatically poured out of my eyes. My body shook noticeably and my fear grew higher and higher. The room felt suffocating. Hah, this house is suffocating.

"I SAID COME HERE!!!!" His voice boomed through the house and I scurried in front of him, ignoring the wide smirks on Kenny and my stepmother's face.

My father stood up off of his seat and that was my brother and step-brothers cue to leave, unwillingly.

"Father, I'm-" before I could finish, a hand smacked down onto my face full force causing my face to snap to the side and stumble a little, spitting out blood. I kept my head low and my gaze on the floor. My tears started to fall quicker and hotter.

"Don't call me your father, you MISTAKE!" he yanked my hair up, keeping me from collapsing. I knew not to make a noise, this happened way too often and I knew the rhythm of this song way too well.

First, he will tell me I'm a mistake, then he'll tell me how I was meant to be a boy.

"I wanted a son but no, God gave me YOU!" he spat the words into my ear making sure it sunk into my brain.

I wanted to scoff and spit in his face but ya girl needs a roof over her head so that's not an option. At times like this, I'd talk to myself while he beat me unconscious. It made me feel less… alone.

After telling me how much I'm a disgrace to the family- "YOUR A DISGRACE TO THIS BLOODLINE!" - he'd either have mercy and choke me and punch me unconscious or he'd torture me till the neighbours knocked on our door.

I laid limp like a ragdoll as he kicked my lower abdomen and choked me with both of his hands. I shut my eyes, not wanting to see his face. I focused on my breathing, taking quick short breaths.

Sometimes, I'd even fake unconscious so he'd end it. He continuously punched my stomach while yelling, "You will never be good enough! Just kill yourself! I hate you! You may be the most talented but that just makes me think IF ONLY YOU WERE A BOY!!!!!" I faded his voice out and thought. If only I was a boy.

I couldn't fall into a peaceful trance because I was brought back to reality with a sharp pain piercing my arm. The shock was too sudden and I accidentally let out a blood curdling scream. My step-mother was cutting my flesh in short lines.

"You thick skinned devil. Lets see how long you can put on a strong face when I peel off your wretched mask" she panted as she enjoyed cutting my skin. My father finally let me go and so did my step-mother.

I laid there, too afraid to move. No joke I make will ever fix the fact that I am hated and will never be loved. A single tear dropped down and I laid on my side with no intention of getting up.

I wasn't expecting the knife part but it's still the same old same old. My bloody arm was laid out in front of me and I saw the continuous row of lines all the way to my wrist. I can always tell myself I am beautiful and stuff but it doesn't change the fact that deep down inside, I hate myself.

"The thing I hate most is that you look. Just. like. your. Mother." he said as he stormed off with his plastic wife. I felt a sharp pang in my chest in the mentions of my mother, I hadn't seen her face in 6 years.

I sometimes like to imagine that she's in a field full of flowers.. She was a beautiful woman, unlike my disgusting father who was pure trash. My mum was a wild, savage, rogue wolf who couldn't be tamed but somehow, my father trapped her into marrying him. Mum was a free soul, living in the woods, until he came. She had the most enchanting smile and her and my brother were the only people I felt safe around. Sometimes, my step-brother would beat me black and blue, just because I was half 'rogue'. He treats me like I'm a rabid dog.

I felt someone stroke my hair out of my face gently as I was still laying on my side.

"Malia," Mike whispered.

I instantly got up despite the excruciating pain I felt and smiled at him with all my teeth. "Mike." I smiled. His eyes watered and I frowned. Mike and I were only 2 years apart so we were really close. He was older but was always more immature, maybe because he was pampered since birth and I wasn't.

"Stop doing that," his voice cracked and a tear rolled down his face.

"Doing what?" I giggled and wiped his tears with my thumb.

"Doing THAT! Pretending you're okay. I'm the elder brother. I'm meant to protect you!" he sniffed and I just giggled ignoring the itching feeling to take comfort in him.

"You have a weak heart, big baby. I'm okay," I laughed more in an attempt to convince myself I was fine.

"Shut up!" he cried into the crook of my neck and I patted his back letting him cry it out.

***

"OW!" I flinched away from the cotton ball filled with a burning liquid.

Mike ignored my yelps and pressed the medicine onto the corner of my lip. He was mad because I forced him not to bandage up the cuts on my arm. I just washed the blood off. I held the ice pack to my face and stared at him as he cleaned my busted lip.

"I have school tomorrow. Lend me your scarf. The hand print isn't attractive and Kenny tore up my-" I couldn't finish my sentence because Mike shushed me. I gasped at his audacity.

"You're going to make your lip bleed again. Stop talking." he rolled his eyes as I giggled. I continued staring at his ugly face, reminiscing how grateful I felt to have at least one person, one person in my life, that I could share my happy moments with.

"Thanks, Mike..."