Tricky FateIn Love With My Bully

FLORENCE

The rain splattered on the sidewalk, licking up the roads and a bolt of lightning flashed briefly from the dark-night sky, shielding everywhere with light for a moment only for the darkness to return. I snuggled closer into my pillow, but the sound of the rain beating down on the old tin roof wouldn’t let me sleep and I turned to the other side of the tiny bed, muttering something unintelligible. Jeezz. Goddamn nature wouldn’t let me catch a breath.

I’d exhausted myself the whole day cleaning up the house and doing whatever requests my stepmom and my half-sister tossed at me and this was the time I had to myself before I had to be up by three a.m. the following morning for another round of chores. It was a fucking sickening routine, but it was my life, and there was absolutely nothing I could to change it. No one cared anyway.

Grunting, I stifled a yawn, getting out of bed to use the toilet just down the dimly-lit hallway when the sound of a door being slammed stopped me dead in my tracks. At first, I thought I was imagining it, but then, it was followed by the shuffling of feet and I could hear muffled screaming coming from downstairs. Fuck. My ears perked up and I reflexively darted out of line of sight, going on all fours to Jenny’s room which was ajar.

Through the slivers of moon filtering through the dingy window, I could see that Jenny wasn’t on the bed and neither was my stepmom. The blanket was in a puddle on the floor, and the room I’d arranged before now looked scattered like they had both abandoned it in a hurry. Something was seriously wrong. I froze in fear, my body shuddering as a deep clutter sound–like plates falling from a rack–carried to my ears.

I could no longer hear the rain, just the sound of my heart thudding against my ribcage. Gbim. Gbim. Gbim. Steady. As if my heart were a beating drum. Noiselessly making my way to the top of the stairs, I paused, pressing myself into the wall so I couldn’t be seen. From where I stuck my head through, I could make out some men in all black, moving things around the sitting room like they owned the place, their movements cold and calculated as if they had planned this multiple times before–just another routine they had to deal with.

My stepmother and Jenny were on their knees by the side of the three-seater couch when one of the hefty-looking men made a move to lift it, their backs to me. I couldn’t find my father anywhere. All of a sudden, this seemed like a movie I’d seen somewhere else–maybe a spell of dejavu–but seeing it play out in my own home was beyond frightening, and my pulse escalated in a matter of seconds. My teeth clattered together, and my body grew cold with sweat. What was going on? Who were these men and what did they want with my family?

My gaze roamed around the living quarters for any sign of my father and I finally found him by the side of the front door, his body lying so still on the floor I feared he was dead.

“Dad!” I called, without thinking, sobs choking my throat. The whole room went silent, and the men looked towards the curve of the stairs where I was taking cover, the movement of items paused for the meantime.

Immediately, my hand flew to my mouth, stifling my squeal, and I squeezed my eyes tight, praying inwardly that they wouldn’t pay attention to me. Fuck. What if I’d made the situation worse by coming out? I should have remained in my room, taking shelter under the bed. But, wouldn’t that be selfish of me?

What if these men–whoever they were–were working on orders and were asked to snuff out anything that stood in the way of their plans? I peeled my eyes open slowly, half-expecting the area to be clear and I was calculating my next move when icy hands grabbed me from behind, nails clawing deep into my flesh.

“Let me go. Please, let me go!” I kicked and screamed, but my pleas fell on deaf ears and they threw me next to where my stepmother was kneeling, the floor soaked with her tears. I went quiet as my step mother peered sideways at me, shooting me a glare that could kill in minutes if it weren’t for the situation.