There is a little girl, about six sitting on a swing. She's dragging her feet against the ground. She looks up towards the sky as a storm cloud starts to pour rain down on everything in sight. She feels like she's the only one being rained on, and she starts to cry. She thinks her life is so messed up, actually, she knows it is. A loud scream splits through her thoughts, it's male. The voice seems to be an angry one. It's her father; which she can't really see clearly through all the rain. She stays in the swing, and starts to pump her legs to bring her higher into the sky. She feels like if she tried hard enough she'd be able to fly right into another life, maybe even a normal one. A hand snatches her from her seat and yanks her down to the ground. She's scared since she can't see what's happening. She can only feel hate, pain, and a sense of loneliness.
She wakes up hours later on the cold damp ground, with a swing slowly rocking with the wind above her head. She tries to sit up but she can't. She can't move at all, she's paralyzed. All she can do is look around her in fright. She hears laughter and looks around. She sees nobody in sight. The feeling of eyes on her makes her start to cry. Suddenly she stops and listens. There is music in the background coming from the window next door. It's sweet and homey, something she's been longing to hear.
She gets herself together and looks down at her arm. Her shirt is torn, her shoes are off and her head is spinning. She puts a hand on her head and when she pulls it away it is covered in dark red blood. This makes her scream out of rage. She is at once silence by her father's voice, powerful and commanding. She can't seem to make sense of what he's saying. Knowing he was and still is angry she slowly rises to the ground and makes a run for the house next door. Every jolt to her shoulder made more tears stream down her face, but all she knew was not the pain, but that she had to get to the house next door. Footsteps behind her make her give up and fall to the ground where she is then kicked and screamed at until she blacks out.
The next time she awakens she is in her bed. The covers feel so soft, as do the pillows. Lying there she thinks about how she got there, all she draws is a blank. She can't believe how much she can't remember. She only remembers the pain because she can barely move. Barely able to move at all, she climbs up from her bed and moves to her dresser on the other side of the room, there is a mirror. She takes a good look of her image, and can't believe how ugly she is. Her face all covered with purplish blue bruises, her hair darkened with crusty blood, and her lip swollen and her eyes just the same. A small sound escapes her lips, a sound of horror and pain as she realizes....
Another day comes around and she goes to school all bruised, all the children laugh and point and all the adults 'tisk' at her appearance. She feels like she is the one to blame. She knows it'll just happen again sometime, depending on HIS mood.