Forgive us
Chapter One

Macey's POV

Tomorrow I turn 16. Tomorrow is the day I leave my personal hell. I have been tormented here for years and I don't plan on staying around any longer. No longer will my so-called father be able to threaten me with sending the police after me or boarding school for delinquents. No longer will he be able to hurt me physically or mentally. No longer will my older brothers be able to join in when he torments me or pretend I'm not around when he isn't here. No longer will they get the satisfaction of me having to beg to be able to eat.

When the clock strikes 12.01 am I will be free and oh I plan on it. I will never ever step foot in this so-called house again. It's not a home, not even close. It hasn't been a home since my mother passed away from cancer. I lost my mother and my family when I was 7.

At first, my brothers hid me from my father and cared for me while he wasn't around but that changed. Slowly, one by one, they joined in. Asher held out the longest but it only took 3 years for him to completely turn his back on me. He never physically hurt me like the others but the words he spat hurt enough.

My father was the worst with his words and fists followed closely by Diesel who had started with the name-calling and insults a year after our mother died. When Asher started to join in with the torments, Diesel became physically abusive too. Tyler hit me a few times when he had been drinking but then would leave food outside my door to apologise when no one was around.

Asher would slip money into his pockets weekly when I was doing his washing which I was made to do by my oh so lovely family, for me and if I put it in his room he would throw it at me wrapped in rubbish. I kept every last cent as well as the money I had saved from working. I hid it with the letters my mother had left me. I had saved close to $12000 which would be enough to get me out of this place and set up somewhere else.

I had written a letter for them to read when I left and was just finishing now at 11.59 pm.

Dear all,

I would say family but then that would be a lie. Family doesn't do what you have done to me for the last 9 years.

First things first, I didn't deserve any of it. I was a 7-year-old kid who had just lost her mum and none of you comforted me unless that piece of shit you call father wasn't around. I was hidden in my room crying myself to sleep every night wondering why I didn't deserve love. Then I was accused of killing my mother. She died of cancer and I had nothing to do with that. She would be ashamed of you all.

To the piece of shit you call dad this is what you did to me over the years.

- 4 broken ribs

-3 broken arms

-12 black eyes

-2 hospitalisations for bruised kidneys

-countless slaps and kicks

-2000 times you spat on me

-3 times you knocked me unconscious

It takes a big man to smack his daughter around when no one is watching. Your threats mean nothing now. You lose Peter because you never broke me. I hope you rot in hell.

Asher, you may not have physically put your hands on me but you contributed to the abuse. For three years after Mum died you secretly looked after me, feeding me, taking me to school and celebrating my birthday and Christmas. But you also stood by watching what the others were doing. You knew better and yet kept quiet. You were the eldest and promised to always be there but you weren't. You pretended not to see the injuries and chose to believe the shit that the others spewed.

I thank you though. I thank you for helping me leave. The money you put in your pocket when I was made to wash your clothes and would throw at me when I refused to take it has helped me get out of this shit hole. You are pathetic though, as an adult you could of taken me away from all this but you chose not to. You are weak just like the rest of them.

Tyler how pathetic you really are. Hitting me when drinking and then bringing me food and clothes as an apology to clear your conscience. It shows you knew everything you were doing was wrong but didn't care. How do you think the police force would feel knowing exactly what you did to your sister?

-15 black eyes

-2 split lips

You also pretended not to see the injuries and are just as weak as the rest. But again I thank you, you showed me never to trust, not even people in the police force. I feel sorry for you because you claim you want to help people but you did nothing to help me even when you witnessed the abuse in your own home. I wish that you never have to deal with an abuse victim for their sake because they deserve better than a low life like you.

Diesel you are scum, just like your father. Like two peas in a pod. This is what you did to me

-countless broken fingers from stepping on them after knocking me down

-a broken leg

-4 dislocated shoulders

-22 black eyes

-8 busted lips

-4 split eyebrows requiring stitches

-28 punches to the stomach

-2 broken ribs

-5 concussions

-Countless slaps and kicks to my back

-4 times pushing me down the stairs.

How do you think your girlfriend would feel knowing you were only with her so she would cover up the trips to the hospital? You really are pathetic and I feel sorry for you. She deserves better than trash like you and I have made sure she knows it too.

All of you pretended not to see the marks or the bruises and pretended not to see the pain as you forced me to cook and clean for you while you provided me with nothing. I'm grateful though, grateful that Mum was never around to see how you all turned out. She would be ashamed of you all. But I will make her proud like I promised her and honour her memory. My only hope is none of you ever have children because if you think that what you all did to me is acceptable then I would hate for you to do it to another child.

I hate all of you for everything you did to me. I hope you all rot in hell. I will never shed a single tear for any of you. Here's to never seeing scum like you again.

Macey.

PS Thanks for the early birthday beating Diesel but you didn't break me.

I take one final look around my so-called room. The bed is the same one my mother brought me after I grew out of my toddler bed. Nothing in my room has ever updated since then. I double-checked I have the box of letters Mum left me. Nothing else in this room matters.

Everything I own and that is important to me is in my two bags. There are photos of me and mum from the first 7 years of my life. There was a photo of me with my father and one of me and my brothers but I tore those up leaving them next to the letter on my bed to the people who were once family. My alarm rings and it's time to go. I quietly close the door and make my way downstairs and out the front door whispering "Happy birthday Mace" to myself and take off to the bus station out of this place I once called home.