Narrative Essay On The Secret Life Of Esther

Ashgrove Avenue seemed longer with each forced step. Billie’s feet dragged across the roughly paved road. Every step drained her of motivation. The bruises reminded her why she was in so much pain; not because her arms, legs or head was throbbing but because no love was given. Her father was always too ‘busy’. Every time it would be something different; one day it would be work and the next would be another girl.

She put the devil’s stick between her lips, inhaled his ghastly breath and exhaled a cloud of thick smoke filled with nothing but toxins. She had let the devil into her head, into her lungs and into her heart. Blood stained her beautiful emerald gown while rum stained her thoughts. Deep, dark blues and purples were left on her porcelain
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She walked up to the old rugged door. Her knuckles tried to resist, but her head made her fist clench and she knocked on the glass. The wooden door opened to a woman in her mid-30’s standing in the hall with a look of surprise.
“Mum.” Billie whispered.
She fell into Esther’s arms and collapsed.
She knew she was now safe.
“Billie baby what happened to you!” Esther as she looked at all the bruises that lathered Billie’s body, like a thick purple paint.
“I…. I was with Dad.”

She toppled into her mother’s bed; the sheets were crumpled but she was too tired to care. Esther rushed back into her room to place a damp cloth onto her porcelain daughter. Billie knew this would be the last time she ever saw that wretched man. The overwhelming pain in her head had set her free. The marks he left with his hands would heal over time, but the fear he gave with his eyes would be forever charred in her head.

She knew that if she stayed she’d be safe. Safe in her mum’s warm, soothing arms. Her mother tried to comfort her throughout the night. She was cradled into a slumber and slept in a heavenly silence. The worry was gone and she was back where she belonged with the person who loved

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