His Princess !! DISCONTINUED !!

Chapter 3

You have been warned that this chapter was not edited and that povs will be changing too.

ABUSE UP AHEAD!!! You have been warned!

Joclyn's POV:

   I anxiously stood there waiting for my punishment. I grabbed my hands to control all the shaking. I was absolutely terrified. Even though it's been 13 years, Jeffery hasn't failed to surprise me with all of his horrendous ideas. Whether it's taping my eyes open so I can't blink to pouring salt and alcohol on my wounds, they all left me writhing in pain, begging for unconsciousness.

   Jeffery walked back and forth, taunting me, making the fear rise to new levels.

   "What did I tell you?" He asked in a sickly sweet voice. The shaking increased.

   "Umm, y-you said n-not to meet him and s-stay away from him," I said stuttering.

   " And what did you do?" He asked, his voice getting deeper with each word and filled with malicious.

   "I-I went in h-his path and b-bumped into him," I said weakly. Suddenly, I felt a stinging on my cheek and my head being flung to the side.

   "Exactly, you little b*tch! You did everything I told you not to! Why can't you f*cking listen to me!" He roared. He punched me in the gut twice and then kicked my legs. I fell hitting my head on the edge of the counter, but that didn't stop him. I could feel the thick, red substance dripping down my face and onto the kitchen counter.

   He kept kicking me over and over again until I was sure I had broken all of my ribs. At least it felt like it. He suddenly stopped. This didn't mean that it was over and I could leave. No this was just the first level.

   I saw as he got a kitchen knife and put it over the flame, created by the stove. Oh god. I knew this was going to hurt. After 20 seconds, he removed the knife. He looked at me with dark amusement. His sickly laugh bounced off the walls and traveled throughout the hallways. Fortunately for him, no one was home. He slowly walked up to me with the burning knife in his hand, spinning it to taunt me and to make me fear him more. When he got close enough, he raised the knife and stabbed it into my thigh. I screamed as the pain coursed through. I don't know if it was the burning object or being stabbed, but it hurt like crazy. Tears streamed down my face and onto the floor, mixing in with my blood. Guess I have to clean that, too.

He finally gave me some mercy (which is hard to believe) and took the knife out. He proceeded to throw it in the trash can and walk away with a satisfied smirk on his face. Jeffery opened the front door and then slammed it shut. He probably went to the bar to gamble and play poker.

Once I knew he was officially gone, I got up, still weak from the beatings, and limped to the bathroom. There I looked down at my wound to see it pouring out blood and blisters coating around it. The good thing about being smart is that I knew how to tend this without dying.

After I dressed my head and thigh wound, I limped back into the kitchen to clean the bloody mess on the floor. Afterwards, I made lunch and walked up the stairs with great difficulty. I hope that this won't hurt too much for school tomorrow.

I got under my ratty quilt and allowed darkness to take me in its arms.

Grayson's POV:

My knuckles burned with pain as I pummeled the punching bag, but I could care less. I was used to the pain. We had just moved back into our old town. By we, I mean my parents, my gang members, and me.

Yes, I am a gang leader and that to one of the strongest ones. I can't take the credit for it because we wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for my parents.