Phonophobia

|15|

(A/N: 🔞 The ending of this chapter is vaguely mature.)

"Do you hear those screams? Do you hear the terror in their voices? Do you want to join them Baybi?" He said, his smile sickening.

I shook my head rapidly.

The noise was too much, the screeching voices of children being tortured. The TV was loud, sirens blaring from the screen, adding to the noise. His wild laughter filling my ears, making me shrink back.

Making me scared.

"It's your turn Baybi, come with me."

"No! Please Dad, I didn't touch your stuff, I swear. I swear!" I cried shaking my head repeatedly, trying to make him believe me.

"Well someone touched it, and you're all going to suffer for it." He said sternly, grabbing both my wrists in his hands.

My heels dug to the floor, refusing to uproot themselves to submit to him.

He tugged again and gave me a warning look but I shook my head vividly, pleading.

But I stumbled back when his free hand collided with my cheeks sending blood spraying out of my mouth.

My body was moving, the screams were getting louder. Just like they had been for the past sixteen years. 

"Please don't take me there!" I screamed, my eyes shut. "Please don't–"

I woke up with a start. My body shaking, my throat dry like I've been screaming. My clothes felt clammy due to sweat, I could feel it dripping the side of my face.

My breathing was heavy and my heart was slamming into my ribcage with mild alarm.

My hand reached out to touch my face, when I didn't feel any pain or burn I sighed and hugged my knees to my chest.

It was just a dream, he's not even here anymore.

I lifted my hand to run my fingers through my hair when a hand stuck out from beside me, handing me a glass of water.

I yelped and scurried backwards, away from the hand. A deep sigh followed before a body shifted in the dark and clicked something. Soon, the room was filled with light.

Everything came falling back, right before I passed out. It was then I realized, I wasn't home.

My eyes snapped to the familiar tall, built figure in front of me.

"Drink some water first." He simply said, like everything was okay.

I didn't say anything, I just pried the glass from his hand and downed the whole thing in three gulps.

"You had an attack, in your sleep." He said straightforwardly once I was done.

I shifted and nibbled on my lip.

"You hit me with a gun." I said blankly, not looking at him.

"I was trying to help you–"

"By hitting me with a gun." I concluded.

"There was going to be a shoot out. You wouldn't have handled the noise." He gritted out, trying not to sound angry. "You would have had a panic attack like you just did."

"There was actually going to be a shoot out when your daughter jumped out the window?" I asked rhetorically, fixating my eyes on him.

Ignoring his last sentence.

"She was going to run away again."

"Someone could have shot her!" I exclaimed.

"She wouldn't have gotten shot." He said briskly.