Abby woke curled up on her bed, textbooks open all around her. She blinked, rubbing an eye as she sat up. “Crap,” she muttered, glancing at her phone to check the time. “I’m going to be late.”

She usually woke up early, around four a.m., sometimes earlier, sometimes later. She jumped to her feet and hastily pulled her long caramel brown hair into a ponytail. She pulled her tank top over her head and discarded it on her bed before replacing it with a black one, along with a new pair of jean shorts, shoving her phone in the pocket.

As she gathered up her books and stuffed them in her backpack she noticed a yellowing bruise on her arm. Grimacing, she pulled a jacket on before slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder. Sitting back down on the edge of herbed, she slid some socks on before donning her combat boots. Giving the room one last cursory glance she stood up again and walked into the hallway.

She practically ran down the stairs, barely managing to keep from stumbling and falling on her face. She was almost out the door when she heard a harsh “Abby!” and a grip like iron wrapped around her wrist.

She turned, her expression carefully blank. “Yes?”

Without answering her father reared back and punched her in the stomach, hard, his grip vise-like on her wrist. Abby struggled to breathe, just wanting to get away from him. She somehow forced herself to straighten and meet his dark gaze. “How can I help you, father?”

His blue eyes, so like her own, narrowed and she braced herself for another blow. Instead he just stepped back and smiled at her. Abby instantly brought her guard up, forcing herself to stay in place. “Have a good day at school, sweetheart.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, apparently not noticing when she flinched. “Love you.”

Abby stared wide-eyed at him as he walked away. She only managed to respond when her phone beeped in her pocket. She quickly pulled it out and answered it, shoving what had just happened to the back of her mind. “Hello?”

“Where in the heck are you?”

Abby couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her best – and pretty much only – friend, Roman. “At home. I’m leaving right now.”

He sighed. “I’ll be there in a sec. Hold on, sweetpea.”

Abby laughed. “See ya then, sugar.”

She could practically hear his roll his eyes at the pet name as he hung up. She smiled, trying to keep herself from thinking about what had happened with her dad. Her automatic reflex whenever…this happened was to push it into a corner of her mind and erect psychic impenetrable walls around it so she didn’t have to examine it too closely.

Roman was the only person that knew about what was going on with her dad, and even then he didn’t really understand how bad it was. Their relationship was strange but somehow it worked. Most people assumed they were dating but in reality Roman didn’t swing that way and Abby just wasn’t interested. If she was honest with herself she would admit that she was glad to have someone like Roman in her life; she wasn’t honest with herself very often.

Before she knew it there was another beep from her phone, indicating that she had a text message, which told her that Roman was outside along with his signature “‘sup bitches”.

Abby found herself rolling her eyes as she pushed open the door and stepped into the bright sunlight beyond. She looked around, shielding her eyes with a hand, wincing when the movement aggravated the new bruise forming on her stomach. “Roman?”