This is the intro to an rp I want to do. I would like for you to play a male, the popular guy who also picks on the outcasts etc. Basically anyone who is not in his group. Pm me or post here if you are interested. Thanks!
What did she do to deserve this? Nothing. But her father sure thinks so. He blamed her for her mothers death. Her mother died when she was born, during child birth. She has no memory of her what-so-ever. The only pictures she has is what her father kept in his office on his desk. Though she wouldn't dare go in there. She was forbidden to go into his office, or room. If she did, she would be severely punished. Which she tried to avoid at all costs, but somehow her father finds something she has done wrong so he could beat her. Yup, beat her. It was the only way to get her to listen, so he thought. She tried hard not to upset her father, but nothing she did was right. There was always something.
"GET OUT OF BED YOU BRAT!" he screamed making the sixteen year old girl jump out of bed from her dead sleep. Rubbing her eyes, but before she got a chance to respond to her fathers sudden burst in anger he grabbed her arm and ripped her out of bed and threw her on the floor. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE UP THREE HOURS AGO TO MAKE MY BREAKFAST!" Glancing at the clock, worried what her father might do. It was only six in the morning. Apparently he didn't sleep last night, and his breath reaked of alcohol. He was drunk. Looking back at her father, her arm hurting, she tried to stand up. But he ended up pulling her off her feet and shoving her. "GET MY BREAKFAST NOW!" For some reason when he drank he was always hungry.
"I- I'm sorry father, I will get it now" a small still voice spoke through her light pink lips. She wore a long dark pink nightgown. But no time to get her bathrobe, her father needed breakfast and now. She shuffled around the room to quickly get to the door, thankfully most of the house was carpet so her bare feet weren't cold. But the kitchen was tile, so then her feet were cold. She hurried about trying to get her father breakfast and to his satisfaction. Meanwhile her father was in his office pacing around trying to find his last bottle of alcohol. Elisabeth heard crashing about in his office, she sighed. He didn't have any alcohol left and she was going to have to get some. But he always gave her no money, so she had to steal it. Which she hated.
"ELISABETH!" by the scream she ended up dropping the plate of food she had just prepared and it shattered to the ground, food everywhere. He came rushing out of the room. "GET ME MY ALCOHOL!" Thankfully, this time Elisabeth had hidden a bottle in case he had one of his early morning fits again, so she grabbed a nice cold one out of the fridge. He looked at the plate on the ground and glared. "WAS THAT MY FOOD!" This guy couldn't stop screaming, it was giving her a headache. Elisabeth nodded embarrassingly and he just got mad. She set the bottle down before he walked to her, just so he didn't break that and she had to get another one. He lifted her up by the neck and pushed her against the wall. When he drank he got mad over simple stuff, so his beatings were worse than normal. He lifted her up off the floor, Elisabeth gasping for air holding her fathers hands trying to free herself. Until she was almost out of breath and he dropped her.
She gasped for air, it took her a while to turn back to color. And her father didn't care, as soon as he dropped he demanded another plate of food, and he said the food on the ground was her breakfast. She didn't eat much, mostly because her father was always so upset at something that she had to scramble about to do everything and still somehow get to school on time. Today was her first day of school. Elisabeth of course didn't eat the food of the floor, she'd rather not eat than be sick from whatever was on the floor. Her father angrily grabbed the bottle and started chugging it as he turned on the news and plopped down on the couch laying there watching t.v. Elisabeth finally gaining her breathing back, and to normal, cleaned up the mess and started to make his breakfast. She glanced over to her father, who was preoccupied with the t.v. She snuck in a piece of bacon and ate it real quick. She knew she'd pay for it later, but she was starving. She barley ate last night because her father made her do too much and she had to get to bed for school today.
It was getting close to school time. Her father was passed out on the couch. That meant she had time to get ready without asking her fathers permission. She just brushed her hair, she didn't have time to take a shower. She did all the chores from the time she got up to now, making sure her father didn't have anything to get mad at when he got home. But she was sure he'd find something. She paused before she finished to check to see if her father was still sleeping. Yes. She grabbed her backpack and wrote a note explaining she had to get to school. Instead of driving, because she doesn't have her license, or even her permit. She walked. It was seven thirty by this time and she needed to hurry to school.
When she got to school she grabbed her schedule and locker number and combination. Glancing at the clock once more, she didn't have time to put her things in her locker, she just had time to get to school. She then quickly looked at her schedule to see what class she had first, Math. Great, she was horrible at Math. A small sigh escaped as she tried to navigate through the halls to find her first class. With all these people walking around she knew she was going to be late. And every time someone bumped into her it hurt. Bruises were everywhere, she had dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt, and a long skirt. She had some hand marks on her neck, not from the morning. Some of it was, but he had done that before. So she wore a small scarf, which was all she had. It covered up some, but not all.
She just hoped no one questioned her about her neck. Her face and hands were fine, so she was able to keep those seen and not hidden. But everywhere else there were bruises. Multiple ones around the same spot from getting hit there so many times. She's surprised most of them aren't permanent. She winced every time someone bumped into her even slightly. The bruises may be a few days old, but it still hurt bad because it'd be the same spots from a different time. Trying not to think about the bruises she hurried on her way to class. This was going to be a very long day. A small yawn escaped as she was still very tired from staying up late last night and barley getting any sleep.
Finally she found her Math class. She was one of the few people who came in at the last minute. She didn't have a choice. She made her way to an empty seat in the middle of the classroom. Hoping she wouldn't get called on. She knew that if people stared at her long enough, they will notice her bruises and start to question her. Especially if they saw the ones on her neck. She put her bag on the back of her chair and took out a notebook she had stolen from her father. He has a ton and she knew if she just replaced it, she wouldn't have to get beaten for it. She took out a pencil and started writing down her name and the date, waiting for the class to start.