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Every Rose has it's Thorn by David

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Rose strongly believed that girls her age should only have to worry about clothes and boys and in her troubled mind she wondered why she wasn’t blessed with such a life. She sat at her small chest of drawers which held a vanity mirror on top. For hours upon hours she could sit staring at her lost reflection, scowering her face wondering what she had done to deserve such a hard and stressful life. Her eyes remained focused on her tired face, her hands now searching along the table. Eventually her hands found what they were searching for. She clutched her hairbrush tightly and brung it up to her golden hair. Grabbing strands of her perfect locks in her hands she begins combing feeling the brush glide through her hair as if through silk.

From outside her room footsteps could be heard, heavy unkind footsteps sounding like they were travelling with a purpose. Rose felt her heart smash around her chest knowing all so well that she was about to receive a visit from her abusive father. She remained combing her hair trying with all her might not to look intimidated. Rose was ashamed that she feared her father but it was a feeling she couldn’t prevent. Suddenly the footsteps came to a halt and everything fell silent. Rose felt a small feeling of relief come over her. No sooner had she became relaxed that her father stormed through the door snarling looking more like a beast than a man. Rose bit down hard on her lip trapping the scream that urged to escape. If her father had taught her anything it was that fear was a sign of weakness and she wouldn’t let him know she feared him.

Her father was a large man, built like a giant red wood tree. Although his body was more fat than muscle he still stood as firm as a brick wall. As always he dressed in a fashion that resembled a cross between a cowboy and a biker. His small eyes were blood shot and filled with anger as he fixed his eyes on his only daughter. Rose kept eye contact as it gave her a look of strength and bravery although at present she lacked both. She felt her body shake has fear pulsated through her, she wouldn’t argue and she wouldn’t back chat she’d simply answer whatever he had to say then he would leave. She turned around on her stool so that she could give him her utmost attention.

“Daughter, would you care to explain why my dinner isn’t on the table?” asked her father in what sounded more like a hiss than a question.

“Well that depends, would you care to explain to me why I am treated like a maid instead of a daughter?” replied Rose clenching her fist’s preparing to be slapped for her cheek and back chat.

“Young lady I hope you are not cheeking me” he slurred almost happy that she was provoking him. He gave her a sadistic smile motioning to his belt.

“I…I wasn’t…I’m sorry” she stammered the fear that she was feeling before had multiplied and was now affecting her speech.

“Good girl, I know you wouldn’t make your daddy mad on purpose.” smirked her father loving every second of her worry and uneasiness.

She places the hairbrush back on the table and gets to her feet; she could see her father still remained towering by her bedroom door. She walked slowly towards the door keeping her eyes fixed on the floor as she did so. She saw his feet come into view and she realised that she was now standing beside him. She began continuing to walk but feels a sharp pain fly through her as she is trailed back by her hair. Her father lowers his head making it easier to slur his wickedness into her ear. She clutched his hand praying that he would release her.

“You have fifthteen minutes to cook me something…and if you haven’t gotten anything prepared then…then it’ll be on your head.” He threatened looking menacingly at the cowering female that was his own daughter.

“I understand…now let me go…please.” She whimpered feeling as though the hair had been ripped from her head.

She watched as her father trudged into his room and slammed the door behind him. She took a moment to make sure her hair remained were she left it then begun to the top of the stairs. She placed her hands on the stair banister and no sooner had she taken one step that she was almost knocked down the stairs by her two little brothers. Her father had poisoned their minds against women and they no longer spoke, acknowledged or showed compassion to Rose. Rose steadied herself on the banister and got back up to her feet and for the second time began her decent to the foot of the stairs. She stood at the foot of the stairs leaning on her front door for support.

She felt tears fall and they tickled her cheek as the slid, there was again a huge silence filling the house although this time it felt comforting instead of worrying. She released she had only a few moments to concoct something for her father to devoir yet her feet refused to move. Suddenly from behind her a knock came to the door which snapped Rose back into reality. She wondered who it was, she was interested to see who it was but after the day she was having she didn’t know if she’d be able to handle anymore stress. Again the door knocked this time louder than before.

“YOUNG LADY…ANSWER THE DOOR” boomed her father’s voice from somewhere upstairs.

Rose wipes her tears away and takes a deep breath as she reaches her hand to the door handle and with one swift click she hoists open the door and is shocked to see….
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