Vengeance Is Mine

Ari

CHAPTER 1: ARI

I slowly opened my eyes, groggily taking in my surroundings. I was in a hospital room, surrounded by beeping machines and sterile white walls that seemed to close in on me. The smell of antiseptic filled my nostrils, making my stomach turn. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my head, forcing me back onto the pillow.

"Am I not dead?" I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks. "After all the suffering, all the pain, I still can't reach his hand."

As I lay there, a memory from my past came flooding back, like a tidal wave crashing over me. I was a little girl, no more than six years old, lying in my small bed in the middle of the night.

"Mommy, Mommy, I'm thirsty," I called out, my throat parched and dry. But there was only silence. I called out again, louder this time, but still, no answer.

I threw off my covers and padded out of my room, my small feet making barely a sound on the creaky floorboards. The house was dark and quiet, except for the sound of yelling and screaming coming from the kitchen. My father, drunk and angry, was arguing with my brother.

"You're just like your mother, always disobeying me!" my father yelled, his face red with rage. "You're a failure, just like she was. You'll never amount to anything!"

"I'm not afraid of you, Dad," my brother shot back, his voice firm and defiant. "I'm leaving the business, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. I won't let you control me like you control Mom."

"You ungrateful little bastard!" my father screamed, his face twisted in anger. "I did everything for you, and this is how you treat your father? You'll regret this, you'll regret crossing me! You're nothing without me, nothing!"

My brother stood his ground, his eyes flashing with anger. "You did nothing for me, Father. You only thought of yourself, your status, your precious company. I'm leaving, and I'm taking Ari with me. We won't let you use us anymore. We won't let you hurt us anymore."

My mother finally spoke up, her voice trembling. "Kai, please stop. Don't say such things. You're hurting your father."

But my brother cut her off. "No, Mother. I won't stop. I won't let him hurt us anymore. He's a monster, and I won't let him win. He's been using us for years, manipulating us, controlling us. But I won't let him do it anymore."

My father's face turned red with rage, and he grabbed an empty wine bottle, striking my brother with all his might. The glass shattered everywhere, and I watched in horror as my father's anger boiled over. He lunged at my brother, punching him again and again, until my brother fell to the ground, his eyes frozen in shock, a small pool of blood trickling from his head.

As I watched, my brother's eyes met mine, and I saw a flicker of recognition. He saw me, his little angel, witnessing everything. He mouthed the words "go back to your room" before his eyes closed, and he went still.

My mother tried to intervene, but my father pushed her away, and she fell on the broken glass. I was so shocked that I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. My father's anger had consumed him, and now my brother was lying on the floor, dead.

Suddenly, my father realized what he had done. His face paled, and he collapsed to the floor beside my brother, wailing in despair. They didn't see me, standing there in my nightgown, frozen in shock. They took my brother to the hospital, thinking I was asleep in my room, unaware of what had happened. But I knew. I knew everything. And in the morning, they told me that my brother had died of natural causes, that it was an accident. But I knew the truth. I knew that my father's anger had killed my brother. And I knew that I would never forget what I saw that night.

I lay in my hospital bed, my mind racing with thoughts of revenge and justice. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I was determined to make my father pay for what he had done.

As I lay there, I heard the sound of footsteps outside my room. My parents entered, their faces somber and worried.

"Ari, how are you feeling?" my mother asked, her voice soft and gentle.

I glared at her, my anger and hatred boiling over. "I know what happened," I spat. "I know what he did to my brother."

My father's face paled, and he took a step back. "Ari, we told you, it was an accident..."

I cut him off, my voice rising. "No, it wasn't an accident. You killed him. You killed my brother. And I'm going to make you pay for it."

My parents exchanged a nervous glance, and my father took a step forward. "Ari, we need to talk about this..."

But I wasn't having it. I knew I had to confront him, to make him tell me the truth. And so, I did the only thing I could think of. I screamed.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, until the nurses came running and sedated me. And as I drifted off to sleep, I knew that I would never forget what had happened. I would never forget what my father had done. And I would make him pay.

The machines beeped and whirred around me, but I barely noticed. My mind was focused on one thing: revenge. And as I lay there, I knew that I would stop at nothing to get it.

As I lay in my hospital bed, I couldn't help but think about my brother's last words to me. "Ari, I'm sorry. I should have protected you better." I knew he was trying to tell me something, but I didn't know what. But I was determined to find out.

And so, I began to piece together the events of that fateful night. I remembered the argument, the shouting and screaming. I remembered my father's anger, his rage and hatred. And I remembered my brother's last words, his apology and his warning.

And as I lay there, I knew that I had to uncover the truth. I had to know what had really happened that night. And I was determined to find out, no matter what it took.

As I lay in my hospital bed, I knew that my journey for justice was just beginning. And I was ready to fight.