Chapter 13

“You little bitch!” He spat, repeating his previous declaration. His oily brown hair lay flat against his head, emphasizing his bulbous head. His eyes were bloodshot and tinged with yellow, he must have had been drinking all night again before setting all his anger out on mom. His white t-shirt was stained with brown, something I can only guess was from coffee. His yellow teeth were bared at me, and a grunt escaped them before he charged at me.

The snarled grin and a heaving breath was my only response. I needed him to hit me. I needed marks on me for this to be perfect. The perfect murder. I closed my eyes as he reached me, hearing the loud ringing in my ear from the backhand before feeling the pain exploding from my face. My brain fog cleared as I found myself on my back next to my still mom, and his whole body sat on my stomach as he had both hands around my neck. My hands immediately went to grip his wrist as the breath was robbed from my lungs, and my eyes desperately went to take in the crazed look on his face.

The grin stretched across my face, and I let my body relax into it, squashing all forms of panic. This wasn’t the first time he strangled me, but this time is the last time, and I’m going to make sure of it this time. I reached for the already bloody knife I knew was next to me. I looked him dead in the eyes as I flipped the knife to be pointing down in my fist and driving it home in my thigh, making me arch up against his weight. He was so focused on choking the life out of me that he didn’t notice the hand next to his wrist was gripping the knife with both of his daughter’s and wife’s blood.

The black dots entered my vision as I turned the knife again in my hand. Gripping it tightly, I jammed it into the side of his neck and dragged it to his Adam’s apple before I couldn’t go any further.

I felt his blood shower my face as I passed out.

As consciousness slowly returned, I discovered something gently tickling the palm of my hand. Using that same hand, I pushed my sperm donor’s body off me. Laying there staring at the tiled ceiling, everything felt surreal. It was almost as if everything that happened since I opened that door wasn’t real, that this school year wasn’t real, that my life wasn’t real. It felt like nothing existed, like I didn’t exist.

Fingers stroked through my hair, and I leaned into the touch. As I did, the stab wound in my leg throbbed, bringing me slightly more into the waking world. But just so.

“Say goodbye to your mother.” A genderless voice whispered in my ear. Nodding, not questioning it, I dizzily twisted onto my side to lean over her body.

Her breathing was barely noticeable against my cheek, and I could barely see her chest moving at all.

“M…” I started, but it took effort even to get the word to form—effort and energy that seemed out of reach to me.

Help.

A burst of energy cleared most of my brain fog as if I had taken a shot of espresso and jolted my body so I was able to control all my limbs. The reality of what I was doing stung my throat and eyes. “Mom.” I choked out.

Fisting her shirt in my hands, I tucked my head into the crook of her neck, breathing in her raspberry scent. It was the scent I could always rely on; it was the one I associated with comfort, love, and protection. Whenever I was homesick at school, I would eat raspberries by the bucketful, and it always helped ground me after a rough day. But here, in my blood-torn living room, on my first day of summer vacation, I knew I was saying goodbye to this scent forever. From the real source of the protection this scent brought me.

“Mom, I did it. He’s gone forever. He can never hit us again. We can go live our lives like we always planned.” I gasped out through my tears. “Please don’t leave me.”

Her eyes were still swollen shut, but there was a gargle in her breath.

“No! Please, mom. Please don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me too.” I sob into her hair. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’ll open an apothecary like you wanted me to, and you can spend your days talking to plants and pretending to have a stupid light core like you’ve always wanted to.” I pulled back to take in her face to see if she understood my words, and as I did, her chest fully stopped. I couldn’t take it. I curled into her side, wanting to take in her scent until that, too, was taken from me.

I spent hours on the floor with her before I remembered I needed to get help for my injury. I numbly got up on shaking legs to reach the phone in my bag. Typing the peacekeeper’s number on autopilot, I waited until a voice asking what they could do for me sounded too far away to be the phone directly against my ear.

“They’re dead. My d-dad killed he-r and almost killed me. Help.” I whispered before letting the phone drop to the floor, but the call had not ended so that they could trace me. I curled up next to my mom again, waiting for help to arrive.

My breath came out in loud puffs as I ran for my life. My hair whipped around me as I tried to find my pursuer. I was unable to see them down the dimly lit hallway, but I knew they were still behind me. The hallway seemed to drag on for miles, but I knew that couldn’t be possible. I was afraid to try for one of the doors I did pass. I was afraid that if I stopped even for a second, that thing would catch up.

An unhuman-like screech made me pump my legs even faster. I needed to find a place to hide. I need to find sanctuary. Seeing a door already opened ajar, I slammed my entire body against it while hanging on the doorknob to catch myself and swing around the door. I shut the door as quietly and quickly as I could and right when I turned the latch to lock it a heavy body slammed itself against the door.

Shrieking, I took a step back as the thing kept hammering its body against the door, trying to open it to get to me. My eyes darted around the room to find anything that could help me, but it was hard to see the pitch blackness, with just enough light shining through the window. I found myself in a room, the centerpiece of which was a grand four-poster bed, its frame adorned with gauzy, flowing drapes. It looked like it could have once been someone’s cherished living space, but it had obviously been long forgotten.

“Psst!”

My eyes darted around the room, trying to find the source of the sound.

“Psst! Over here!” A child-like voice whispered. I zeroed in on a tiny head poking from behind the bed.

“Come here! Quick!” They whispered frantically, their tiny hand gesturing me to come. Taking a glance at the buckling door and then at the creepy child hiding in the dark, I knew where I would rather go.

I ran on light feet toward the other side of the bed and was able to make out some of their features. The little boy had a cute, uneven bowl cut and flushed, rounded cheeks.

“Come on, I know where we can hide, where it can never find us,” he whispered.

“Where?” I asked.

“I’m not allowed to tell you, but I can bring you there. Close your eyes.” He whispered. Closing my eyes because I’d trust anything other than that thing outside right now.

A strange whooshing was accompanied by the sound of the door giving way. The little boy’s hands covered my eyes to keep them shut as we fell, and the creature’s angry screech pierced through the room as it realized it had lost us.

Gasping, I sat up from my lying position. Taking a frantic look around the overly white room, I realized I was in the hospital. That was the most vivid dream I’ve had yet. They generally ended with me hiding in random places or continuously trying to find a safe space, but this was the first time someone else was there, especially someone there to help. I could still feel his cold and clammy skin covering my eyes, and my ears still rang.

Covering my face, I gave my eyes a rub to try to ground myself. I regretted it the second my head cleared.

Mom.