His Broken Echoes

Prologue : The Abyss Within

The second I close my eyes, the memories play and I am sent back to the very beginning.

I sat there, the cold floor unforgiving to my bruised and petite form. The frosty air caressed my barely-covered frame, making me shiver under its embrace.

My stomach retched, my throat dry, how had I gotten myself into this mess? A distant thud echoed across the cold, hard floor, ricocheting into my ear, alerting me of someone's arrival.

A hand slid down my face, in a way that made fear rise in the pit of my stomach. I knew the touch too well. The blindfold may have restricted my vision, yet I could feel what was about to happen to me.

I attempted to curl up into myself, trying to prevent the doing that would haunt me, probably for the rest of my life. Yet, all I got was a bitter laugh from the person who gave a 'home' to me, as I tried to retreat into the corner.

Fingers caressed my shoulder, and a shiver travelled down my spine, as the hands trailed further down my body.

"You are going to get it, SLUT." A gruff voice whispered beside my ear, making me flinch at the harshness. The voice I knew too well. How could I not? He was my 'so-called' father, after all.

My father's grip on my hair was suffocating, leaving me at his mercy. Dragged to my feet by my hair. I stood there, trying to be as still as possible, but the tremors in my body were unmistakably noticeable.

"Time to rip those off you." His words dripped with demonic malice, laced with a commanding tone that dared me to fight him. My body froze, fear bubbling in my gut as I stood wide-eyed before him, helpless against his power.

Suddenly, I could see it all yet the hatred in his eyes blinded my vision.

I could make out the silhouette of the man standing in front of me. Though the darkness prevented me from making out his distinct features, all I could focus on, were the piercing black orbs I knew too well.

Awakened by the hand connecting with my cheek, I could do nothing but stare as he pulled at the waistband of my boxers, that barely covered me up. Closing the distance between the two of us, he ripped the ragged clothing and then worked furiously on my worn-out t-shirt. The flimsy material was torn away from my body, as his belt swiftly swung forward to strike my back before I could even blink. I flinched as pain spread through my back, tremors taking control of my body as I stood there, enduring the beating that seemed to last forever. He was mindful of his hits, only slashing where it would hide under clothing. That seemed to trigger his anger to a very different level. But he could do nothing about it if he didn't want someone to find out what he was doing behind closed doors.

Once he was satisfied with the final painting of my body which was filled in a deep shade of red, the metallic smell of blood filled up the small room. Pulling out a handkerchief from his left pocket, he advanced towards me, shoving me down on my knees. Fear surged through my whole body, leaving goosebumps on my exposed skin. My muscles rolled, agonizing pain shooting up my ankle as I tried to fight him, but there was no chance as he stuffed the cloth into my mouth that would prevent me from shouting. He forced me onto my stomach, slamming into me soon after. 

My screams were smothered by the moist fabric shoved into my mouth. With each violent thrust, my body convulsed in agony. He relentlessly impaled me until his climax neared. Yanking out of me, he sprayed his hot seed across my exposed back, leaving a burning trail of shame and degradation. As he straightened his clothes, I lay there, violated and broken, the taste of sweat and bile lingering in my throat.

"Eat less, you slut."

He must have filtered out the fear in my eyes. The frozen state of my body was too evident to ignore. He stalked towards me, crouching down in front of me to fist my hair, pulling at it roughly to state his dominance and control over me. A low whimper bubbled in my throat as my body trembled like a leaf.

"You know what happens if you tell a soul, yes?" He hissed, and I flinched, hearing the demon in his voice.

I gave a fervent nod and was pushed away. He walked out of the room, dragging me out with my hair, pain swirling up my body as it scrapped against the floor. My father slammed me into the wall outside my room and walked on as if he hadn't beaten his only son half to death.

As soon as he disappeared from view, I mustered all of my strength to move, but the searing pain coursing through my body was too much to bear. My limbs trembled uncontrollably, a violent reaction to the agony that consumed me. 

I wanted to cry, to let out the flood of emotions building inside, but even that small release seemed impossible. I lay there, feeling helpless and alone, my body racked with torment and my mind struggling to make sense of it all. It was as if every nerve ending was on fire, relentlessly burning away any semblance of control or composure.

'Weak,' A voice screamed inside my head.

Each word was like a physical blow, hammering into my skull and crushing my spirit. 'Pathetic... worthless... disgrace...' The vicious insults assaulted me, each one feeling like a knife stabbing into my already battered body.

I dragged myself to my feet, gritting my teeth against the overwhelming pain that threatened to consume me entirely as I struggled to push forward.

Sneaking over to the bathroom that was just beside the bare four walls of the torture room, it held nothing more than haunting memories for me. It was a constant reminder of the part of my life that I so desperately wanted to forget and escape from, yet could never fully leave behind. Every time I stepped foot in that room, it felt like reliving a nightmare.

My hand shook as I retrieved the razor from its hiding spot, my eyes fixated on the glinting metal. With a deep breath, I brought it to my wrist and slashed repeatedly until crimson droplets dotted the bathroom floor. 

Ignoring the pain, I stepped into the shower and turned the knob to the hottest setting, letting scalding water pour over me in a pool of red. Frantically, I scrubbed at my skin, trying to erase not only the blood but the sickening feeling of shame that clung to me. The burning water stung my cuts, but I welcomed the pain, needing any distraction from the demons in my head.

Tears streamed relentlessly down my scarred face as I stood under the cascading water, each drop stinging like hot needles against my wounds.

'Why me?'
The unanswered question echoed in my mind, tormenting me with its cruel taunts as I tried to cover up my battered body with a pair of threadbare hand-me-downs. I collapsed into the cold, unforgiving corner of my prison-like room, my exhausted body giving up on me, lulling me into a light slumber.

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Notes - Sometimes I feel like I am drowning, drowning in the sea of pain which didn't seem to have a seabed as I go down and down sucked in by an invisible force, unable to breathe, suffocated by emotions that overwhelm my being as I try to swim up but the force is only pulling me down. The force of self-loathing, anxiety and overthinking. Somedays I am okay, I feel like I can resurface if I try hard enough, other days I feel drained out from splashing around trying to find any ray of light in the darkness that surrounds me, consumed by emptiness and despair, trying to hold my tears in because I know once I start I won't be able to stop and the thought alone scares me and so I just float in the sea clouded by my wild thoughts feeling numb.....

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