I woke with a distinct pain near my stomach. When I tried to touch it, I realized my hands were tied behind my back. And that I couldn’t see. And when I tried to move my mouth, something mildly sticky held it closed. Duck tape.

Everything flew back to me, not that it was much. I remembered leaving the apartment building, and sitting on the bench. I remembered dialing the taxi driver, and the painful punch to my gut from a stranger.

I had been kidnapped.

Suddenly, I was kicking and screaming, though the screaming didn’t help much. Suddenly, I remembered a night, where my father had tied my hands behind my back while he beat me. I remembered how I had undone it so many times afterward. Quickly, I stopped struggling, and skillfully bent my wrist back, pulling at the knot. Only minutes later, the black piece of fabric was thrown away. I took off my blindfold and realized I was in a room. A small dark room. I couldn’t see anything, but I felt the carpet I was sitting on. I worked hard on focusing my eyes into the darkness, and I saw someone. Sitting. In a chair. In the very corner of the room.

I screamed.

The person shot up, running towards me. The person slapped my cheek hard, silencing me as I whimpered in pain.

“Hello, Aria.”

I would know that voice anywhere.

Amber.

I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.

“I punched you pretty good last time, didn’t I?” she giggled menacingly, squeezing my arm. Her nails dug into my skin. “Want me to do it again?”

“Don’t touch me.” I spat, shaking her hand off me. She laughed, and slapped me again on the opposite cheek.

“Should I call the boss up?” she giggled with a devilish tone, squeezing my cheeks with her finger nails.

I gulped.“Who-who’s the boss?”

“Oh,” she snorted. “I think you know exactly who the boss is.”

My father. Of course. But I never would have put the two and two together. Amber, working with my dad? To kill me? “Where am I?” I asked, ignoring her comment.

She cackled, seriously just like a witch, and switched a light on.

We were in a bedroom. I didn’t recognize it, so we couldn’t be at my dad’s apartment in California. Then my eyes fell to a picture. A family of four stood, smiling at the camera. The two daughters, one brunette and one blonde clung to their parents. The blonde one was me. The other daughter was Scarlett. The man was my dad.

And the lady, was my mother.

We were in my mother’s house.

The mother, who had left me, so long ago. The one who had briefly tried to protect me from my father. The mother, who ended up leaving me with the monster. The mother who was not a mother. My mother.

“Where is she?” I whispered, turning back to Amber. She looked at me, her eyes cold.

“What’s it to you?”

“My mother. That’s what she is to me.”

Amber sighed, thinking for a second. Then, she grabbed my by the arm and pulled me up, dragging me towards the door. “Stay quiet.” She giggled. “You don’t want to get beaten up.”

Holding me like a security guard, she led me down a foreign hallway towards another room.

“Can I come in sir?” she yelled with a knock on the door. I shivered at the thought of my father being right behind that door. “I’ve brought her with me.”

“Come in!” the menacing voice yelled, making my knees go weak. Amber pushed the door open, holding me by the arms. The first thing I saw made me want to yell in disgust. My mother, the one in the picture, was tied to a chair, her eyes closed. There was another empty chair beside her. And then, I made eye contact with my father.

“Well, well, well,” he laughed, walking towards me. He face spelled out the word “devil.”

He swept his fingers across my face as if he was wiping off dust, then gave my cheek a hard slap. “If it isn’t my ugly, little, slut of a daughter.”

I whimpered.

He told Amber to let me go, but grabbed me as soon as her nails left my skin.

“Did you get the messages?” he asked, squeezing my arms. “Did you?”

I stayed silent, unable to speak.

“I said answer!” he shouted, slapping my cheek again. I nearly collapsed but he kept me straight.

“Every single one.” I coughed out with a nod. My eyes darted to Amber, who stared at me with a smirk. She was enjoying this. To think we had shared a house for at least three weeks together.
She was fucking enjoying this.

What the actual fuck.

My father reeked of beer and cigarette smoke, causing me to cough out.

“I figured I’d save the good stuff for when you were awake.” He laughed, literally tossing me into the chair. My back hit the chair so hard, that the little bars in between dug into my spine. I winced in pain.

“How long,” I whispered, “was I out for?”

My father looked over at Amber, who looked down at her phone. Probably a calendar.

“Seven days.” She informed.

Seven days.

“You got your rest.” My father laughed. “Enough for you to take what’s coming.”

“No please.” I whimpered, shaking my head. My father laughed, and threw a punch at my face. I could instantly feel the metallic taste of blood seeping through my teeth. I screamed in pain.

My father laughed, while Amber giggled in the corner. My dad hit me in my arm, sending my flying backwards. The chair tipped over and I crashed to the floor, my head hitting the back of the chair. My father dragged me off the chair and began punching me nonstop.

He beat me until I was numb.

I felt my breaths slowing, my head turning weakly as he slapped me.

“You’re mother isn’t dead.” He spat, pointing to the women strapped to the chair. I looked up, and saw my mother’s pale face. How could she not be dead?

“I hit her until she lost consciousness.” My father grinned, wiping his hands on the shirt, staining the shirt with my blood. Wait. My blood? I looked down and realized my arm was bleeding from the punches.

“I hate you.” I shouted. “I hate you so much.”

My father’s head snapped back to me, his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

“I said, I hate you.”

He punched my gut so hard, I threw up. I clutched my stomach, and began to cry.

“Aww.” My father cooed. “She’s crying.”

Amber giggled in the corner.

Notes

omg this is terrible. BUH IT MAY OR MAY NOT GET BETTER.