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TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSUALT, CHILD ABUSE, AND BLOOD, GORE, DRUGS
***
Yelling. Screams. Smell of weed filled the air. Smell of gasoline.
Hiding behind the broken cabinet I closed my eyes tightly.
First day of freshman year is tomorrow. Please don't hurt me. I want to see Aurelio.
The howling wind filled my ears.
The chatter stopped. Silence.
That's how I always knew I was fucked.
Putting my hand over my mouth from whimpering in pain. I tried to keep my breathing calm.
Blood rushed out from my stomach. They cut me when I said I didn't get them their vodka from the store.
I'm underage you idiots. What'd you expect?
"Oh Mia," sang Mrs. Vasquez's voice. "Come on out sweetie" said Mrs. Vasquez, her voice was close. Too close.
You're tricking me. I thought. I've learned the hard way that you're messing with me.
Not responding, I waited for what happened next.
Little did I know that would make everything ten times worse.
She pushed the broken cabinet against me. She knew where I was this entire time.
I hissed in pain and let out a cry. She grabbed me by the arm that already had glass in it because they threw a bottle of empty whiskey at me.
I tried getting out of her hold but she pressed against the glass making it go further inside.
This will cause nerve damage, I'll have to treat it or ask Mrs. Wylie for help.
She dragged me towards the fireplace. Mr. Vasquez was already there smirking while looking at me hiss in pain. I stood in front of Mr. Vasquez. I was looking down at the ground.
"Oh Mia, when will you ever listen? You should know better. I guess you really are your biological mothers daughter. She was a bitch who gave you up so easily. I don't blame her, you're not worthy of anything, not even a family," he said. I heard a deep familiar chuckle come from the side.
Mr. Byers.
Mrs. Vasquez got a blowtorch and lit it up. I gulped. I tried getting out of Mr. Vasquez's hold but he kept me there. She held my chin up and put the lit blowtorch near my eye. I froze. Blinking rapidly trying to make this suffering end. She laughed.
She laughed at my suffering.
She pulled away from my face, but I knew. I knew this wasn't the end of my suffering. She pulled the blowtorch back towards me but instead she burnt the palm of my hands. I screamed in pain. She had a firm grip on my hand.
