The Story Still Continuning. ~chapter 3

Rex stopped after one last blow to my mom’s side, and turned his head up, to look at me. His eyes raging with fire as I held our thick cell phone, in my tiny hand, still deciding what to do. I was fighting against two things.

What would happen to my mom, if I called, and my dad was even more enraged, as I knew he would be, and what would happen if I didn’t call.

" Morgan, if you call ANYBODY on that damn phone, I'm going to harm your mother more, and when I'm done with her, you are next. It will be the worst beating you have gotten, and if your mother gets hurt anymore than she already deserves, it will be all your fault! So, I suggest you turn around, and put the fucking phone back on the counter, and go to your room right now!"

That hit me hard. I could not be responsible for my mother’s pain, when it hurt me enough to watch this. I turned around and set the phone back on the counter and let the tears fall. 

"Mom..I'm sorry, I can't let him hurt you more! He might kill you if I call..mommy I cant..." I trailed off.

 Rex just got off my mom and grinned. He slammed her body into the wall, and let her fall. This time not only blood was marking the wall as she fell, but blue blood. I know, it isn't blue blood, or it's not real, but all my mother and I could figure out over the years of trying to remove it from the wall, was that this was blue blood.  

Rex walked towards me, and grinned menacingly, his hazel, almost green eyes, searing my skin as he stared me down. I turned to run, and he grabbed me by the hair, pulling me down.

        I cried out in pain and he only grimaced and kicked my side. I rolled up into a ball trying to breathe, but it only hurt my chest worst. I couldn't stop  crying, and all he did, was contine pulling my hair and kicking me. He kicked my face, resulting in a cut lip.

My mom was glarring at me for just a moment, until she ran up and tried to pull him away from me.  He only let his other hand fly back to smack my mom, and shove her to the ground. She got up and went to their room. 

After about another half hour of being kicked, stepped on, slapped, thrown against the ground and walls, punched and having my hair pulled out, I just give up screaming for him to stop. 

I can't recall if the beatings continued after the half hour, all I remember was being told to go to my bed, and that my step dad would tell us what we would tell my school about the bruises for the next week, or so, until they started to fade.