i woke up to my father screaming the same old things at the top of his lungs while holding his beer and everything he had carried for the past years. this doesn’t happen rarely. not at all.
i ran to the balcony and the front door to lock them before he could even get in. i went upstairs and heard quiet shrieks, i already knew where it was coming from. i knocked. there was no verbal response. quiet shrieks quickly turned into sobbing. “hey, it’s fine, it’s me laura” i uttered. then i heard a sigh of hopefulness. the cabinet door creaked and running footsteps followed. isabella peeked at the door slightly, and when she saw it was me outside, she opened it and came whining.
“hey are okay?” i asked
“laura... is dad coming to hurt...”
“no, i won’t let that happen, don’t worry. go on and get ready, we’re going to leave”
i was thinking of nothing but escaping. i won’t let this day be the last day that i would ever wake up. i won’t let isabella live this dumpster fire for eternity.
before i could even come downstairs to get my things, i heard glass shattering, i knew it came from the balcony door. my heart began to race. i hurried to isabella’s room and grabbed her arms “we need to hide” i whispered. we went to the end of the hallway and i pulled the attic ladder
“are we... going to hide here?” isabella doubtfully asked
“there’s no time to talk, just go up there” i furiously whispered trying to hold half off my voice back.
we went inside the attic but i knew i was going to have a lot of trouble closing its door. i didn’t have the strength to do it. i didn’t have the strength to do none. footsteps from the stairs are coming closer. i couldn’t hear anything but an abusive man yelling maniacally. yelling everything that could kill us.
“do you think we can jump off the window?”
“but i’m... scared”
“don’t be, i’m here.”
i wonder how in the world i could ironically tell isabella not to be scared when i couldn’t do the same thing for us. i ran to the attic window and tried to open it, and again, i didn’t have the strength to do it. it was too hard to open, due to it being already old and rusty. yet i blamed nothing nor anyone but myself. by the time i was trying to open the window. our father came climbing the attic. i expected isabella to be right by my side, scared of what would happen to us, but she wasn’t. instead, i saw her grab the old vase that i was about to use to shatter the window, and violently hammered it into our father’s head. he went unconscious, i was blown away by what i’ve seen with both my eyes. i stood there blankly for seconds. i wiped my face with both of my hands to relieve myself as i ran into isabella. her whole body was shaking and her face was red flushed. i hugged her and as i held my arms around her, a twisted thought suddenly hit me into consciousness.
“come inside your room, lock the door”
“why?”
“just do it please”
she nodded confusedly and ran to her room. i stepped on my dad’s unconscious body as i went downstairs to the kitchen. grabbed the sharpest knife i could use and go to the attic again. i smiled as the twisted thought completely dominated my sobriety. i laughed menacingly as i rapidly thrust the knife countless times into my dad’s chest as his sickening blood constantly splashes on my face.
“what the... hell” i stood up questioning what i just did though i couldn’t hide how it made me felt - satisfied.
i went outside the attic and made sure isabella’s room was locked. fortunately, it was.
“are you there?” i asked
“yes... can i go out here now?”
“not yet. just stay there no matter what. i’ll come back here soon”
i ran downstairs and went inside my room to get new clothes and showered to get off all the blood covering me. after it, i went to isabella’s room again to check her but she wasn’t there anymore. whine sounds were coming from the attic so i decided to check it.
“isabella...”
“what happened to him?” she looked at me with her eyes shedding tears.
“i had to.”
Comments
Post a Comment