His Human Luna - The His Series #1 ✔️

chapter 1

~Sesil

"things could have been so much easier if you were never born"

I only stare from across the entrance of the nearly dark room. The dim light spills on my grim face, silent and hardly keeping control on the swell growing in my throat. After all, there are only those muted kind of words that you can utter in response to this merciless claim if your very own father is the one who allowed it to leave his lips.

**

I loose my eyes to the sunlight sneaking through the window of my room, peeking around in a usual distress. It was a dream, again. Although calling it a dream isn't doing it justice. Looking at the cold breaths that I'm hastily escorting out and the drops of sweat seeping down my forehead, It is by all honesty a nightmare. a nightmare of having the very person who gave you life loudly wishing to take it out of you.

As soon as I permit my eyes to flutter shut, uninvited past memories prowl my mind.

taking me back to when my dad used to abuse me and my mother, his unjustified violent actions planting terror in our hearts, his drunken nights in which he returns home outraged because he lost another round in gambling.

Tugging myself in a collapsed setting position, I let out a deep sigh and urge myself to believe that the suffering is long left behind.

All ended after that incident.

Loosing the straps of my eyelids again, this time I allow the heavy downpour of memories to take me back four years ago.

My dad and I used to argue about everything and that dreadful day hadn't been any better. My father had been invariably on edge, he used to blame his miserableness on our existence in his life. My mother had constantly advised me to avoid engaging with him. Yet, my stubbornness was never going to allow me to stick into the only rule that my mom set, and I was hell bent on breaking.

I yearned to scream out what his cruelty was doing to me from the inside out and fighting back against his all but fatherly behavior was my only way.

Although that time had been different, yet only worse. His rage had embodied the monstrous, physical abuse that he had never been conservative in keeping within acceptable borders. That night with only the two of us in the house that I hated to take as a shelter, one edgy move of his, sent me in a loss of balance. My head met the table's sharp frame, and a sharper kind of pain swatted my skull.

blood seeped against the floor in a frightening abundance.

I glanced at my mom's legs as they rushed toward me. the pain had started spreading its numbing needles down my body, the gravity pulling my Eyelids together and my vision was starting to blur beyond what I could take.

My mother's piercing shouts had been the only thing clear enough for me to pick up in my sedated state.

"Sesil" she breathed restlessly "baby girl,"

Her sobbing voice had trembled like a light leaf against the strong gust of the night breeze. Her hands were no steadier as she pressed against the wound and prayed for her helpless, clumsy attempts to stop the generous overflow of blood.

With eyes closed and darkness striving to take me in, her blaming jingles came out next "what have you done? She is your daughter"

"Anya I didn't mean to push her I swear," the accused shot back in denial, not really regretting what he had done.

Abandoning whatever remained within my collected muscles, I allowed my body to swim back in the darkness that it came from.

Waking up on an artificial, clean scent, I tried to move my finger but I terribly failed. Faint sobbing intruded on my drunk ears and a feminine hand was taking mine in a soft hold.