Burn (Finished! Working on sequel!)

Having to adapt: Ages 25 - 26

I woke up that morning and shot straight up. I held my mouth, coughing. I got straight up, holding my gut. I grunted looking at the floor. I leaned over, coughing up blood. This is what I get for being smashed around on a wooden floor. I thought.

I groaned, looking around for my clothes. "God, dammit. Where are you, old hag?" I yelled out. No reply. He's probably out! I thought frantically. "I need to get out of this hellhole!" I muttered. I found a couple rags and raced outside.

I started running down the flights of stairs, trying to keep up with my shortage of breath.

Hurry.

Get downstairs.

Just make it outsi-

I didn't make it outside. I bumped into the man again, who grabbed my neck, lifting me up with one hand. I squeaked out, grabbing his arm. He dropped me, leaving me in a pile on the floor.

"Get back into the room, bitch." He motioned upwards, and I knew that if i didn't get back upstairs, I would get another fair bruising. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me. "Why couldn't I have beaten him?" I cried out softly. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed into them, sitting on the cold tile floor. I started bawling, falling onto my side and whinging, kicking and then screaming.

"Hey!" The gruff voice yelled. "Keep it down, or I'll just have to slam your broken body against this bedpost again, or did you not learn your lesson?" He walked over to me, kicking my rib cage. I screamed out as he dropped some groceries onto the counter. I stood up. "I'm done. I can't take any more!" I cried out, my face bloody and splintered, tears washing away some of the blood. I could taste the salt in the tears each time I sobbed. He looked at me solemnly. "A deal's a deal, Hun." He grinned, finishing placing the groceries away. "Think of yourself as a...Housewife." My fists clenched. "A housewife?! That's what I'm considered as now? What a lowlife!" I kicked the ground, immediately regretting it, groaning as my leg moved slightly.

***

That night, I lay on the cool sheets next to the asshole, looking out the window. I wonder what mommy or daddy would think of me right now? Probably the most disobedient daughter ever. I thought. I closed my eyes, holding my stomach which was hurting more then normal. Yet again, I lay on top of the sheets crying silently next to the snoring bastard that was imprisoning me here.

I sniffled, shaking my head.

"I can't..." I cried out softly. I perked up a moment later, noticing that why hadn't I ever take off at night? I pondered this, slowly standing. I walked to the door, stepping over my blood stains that were dotted among the wooden planks. I stepped down and a long creak rang though the room. This is it. I thought. There was a mumble from the bed and I thought I was dead meat. He didn't wake. I exhaled "Thank god..." I muttered.

I rushed to the door, opening it and letting it slam behind me. I made it outside, running along the streets.

***

I ran until sunrise where I ran into a woman around my age. She looked as if someone just died, which on the inside, I had. "Ma'am...? Are you alright?" She looked highly concerned. I shook my head. "No, I'm not. I'm really not." I sniffled. My life had turned into an emotionally depressed mess, once again. I took the time to tell her my life story and all the shit that had happened recently, and she completely understood. I was in awe. Nobody ever understood or listened to me!

"Follow me." She whispered. She was in her late 60's but a kind woman. We eventually came to a small shack and she let me sit on her couch while she got me some real clothing. "So. Tell me," She started. "How long have you known this man for?" I pondered this. "Almost all my life." I muttered. She nodded. "You know, that man was a bad, bad man, and still is." She whispered. I looked up at her small bony figure.

"Because," She started. "That man did the same thing to me." My eyes opened wider. "Really?" She nodded. "Yes, but I eventually was able to leave. At the time, I had beaten him at his 'game' because he was much weaker at the time, but didn't keep his promise." I frowned. "So either way he would have kept me there?!" I whisper shouted back. She nodded. "A cruel man he is." I nodded once more. "I'm sorry, Ma'am." She looked up at me. "Oh, please, call me Gail." I nodded, smiling slightly.

Gail started nursing me back to health that night. She bandaged my wounds and such, feeding me. I looked up at her, brushing her cheek. "Gail, thank you so, so much." She smiled warmly at me. "Any time, sweetie." She got up, going to go sit in her rocking chair. I lay in the bed looking up at the ceiling, wondering what that man was doing at this moment time. I didn't worry much though, because I knew I was in good hands.

***

That morning, I sat up with a jolt. Gail was watching me from afar. "How did you sleep, dear?" I looked at her timidly. "I-I'm good." I stood up, looking around. I looked down at the floor and I frowned.

Jesus, I'm getting fat. Maybe this woman is feeding me a bit too much, yet yesterday was only my first meal in a while. What the hell? I frowned, looking around the room. Not much to do. Gail came walking over. "So, is it okay if I ask your real name?" I twitched slightly. "Oh, um. Yeah.." She nodded. "I'm Emerson." I smiled calmly. "Oh! What a pretty name..." She smiled back.

We talked and such until it came to the subject of why I was looking so fat. "I'll um be right back." She said. I nodded, staying seated in the chair.

A few minutes later, she brought in... a white stick. A stick. Wow, thanks, so helpful. He whispered something in my ear and gave my the box of where she got it from. Why would a 60 year old woman have something like this?! I wondered frantically. I heaved a sigh, looking down at the box It was musty and worn out, but I could read out the directions. The title read: 'Pregnancy test'

Now, I had no idea why I would need this, but I humored the old woman and went to go test it out.

***

A few minutes later, I came back with the results. I showed it to Gail and she examined it, looking though her glasses, or 'Spectacles' as she liked to call them. "What does it mean?" I asked her. "Well, I'm afraid you might be bearing a child." She looked up at me with sadness in her eyes. "Wait, what?!"

Then it occurred to me, I was pregnant with the assholes baby.