PAIRING : Faith POV

RATING : PG14

DISCLAIMER : I do not own these characters.

NOTES : If I give away  too much, what's the point?

THANKS TO : EVIL WILLOW!

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            "FAITH!" She screams.

            "COMING!" I scream back and throw on another shirt, cause I know he's home and I don't want him getting ideas from seeing me in my tank top. I open my bedroom door and walk into the kitchen. "What?" I ask.

            "I told you to wash these dishes; aren't you good for anything, you little bitch?"

            "Sorry, I forgot." I say as I go towards the dishes.

            "Honestly, Faith, can't you remember one little thing? Are you that stupid that you can't remember to wash some damn dishes? After all we do for you?"

            "Sorry." I repeat. "It won't happen again."

            "It happens all the time." She snaps at me as I run the water to fill the sink.

            "I try, Mom, I do."

            "Well try harder!" She yells. I know it's not entirely her. He probably gave her that red mark on her face for not having them done.

            "I will." I insist, but I don't really mean it. I never do. I'm sick of this… I'm sick of being in this tiny house with two psychos. I'm sick of my life. God, there *has* to something better than *this*, doesn't there?

            "I'm going shopping. Have them done when I get back, Faith."

            "Yes, Mom." I say and close my eyes as I hear the door close behind her. I can just feel his eyes boring into my back, undressing me.

            "So, little Faithy didn't do her work." He says. I just ignore him. Sometimes I think that if I ignore him, he'll go away forever. And then there's reality.

            I feel his hand on my ass, "Do I have to teach you some manners?" He asks as he slaps my ass hard.

            "No. Just don't feel like talkin'." I say, which *is* the truth.

            "We don't have to talk." He says as he grabs me and spins me around. I feel his tongue being jammed down my throat and his hands squeezing my chest hard enough to bruise.

            "NO!" I try to scream but it's muffled by his tongue down my throat and his grunts of pleasure as he leads my hand to his dick.

            "Oh yeah, Faithy, you whore, you want it. Your tight little pussy wants my pecker. I know it does, just like it did last night and this morning."

            "No." I say; but fighting is useless as he drags me into my room, where there will soon be another blood stain on my sheets that he'll spank me for later, after she's yelled at me for not doing the dishes.

            I start to cry, which only makes him go harder… there's gotta be something better than this, isn't there?

            God? If you're listening, please send me over the rainbow.

~El Fin~