Bound by Shadows ©️

Lila King

I used to love my life. I thought I was the world's luckiest and most loved daughter. I lived a picture-perfect life and had everything I could ever dream of. That was until my father died. Everything came crashing down. My mother's true side emerged after my father died. It turns out she hated me to the point of wishing she never had me. She blames me for my dad dying, though I don't understand how I had anything to do with him getting murdered on a work business he had gone on that weekend. I think blaming me makes her feel better—someone to take the anger out of, I suppose.

I miss him. Ever since he passed, my life has been nothing but darkness. I never thought I would have to live without him. He was my rock—the one who loved me the most. He did everything in his power to protect me and make me happy, no matter how busy he got. In our world, not everyone can have a father like that. Fathers are supposed to be strong and feared by everyone, even their sons and daughters. Having a close relationship with your father was almost impossible. Most of them never actually want to become fathers; it's just expected of them to. They have to continue the family line; it's expected of them.

Lorenzo King was different. He loved me as his daughter and for who I truly was. When he died, I knew that nothing in the world could ever hurt me more than that.  The moment I was told he was gone, my whole heart, world, and life turned into dark ashes, making it hard for me to breathe the same as I did before. The memories I have with him eat me day and night, but he never comes back. What hurts more is that I never got to say goodbye.

Three months later, my mother was walking down the aisle, marrying another sinner that had been passed down to her. Ryan Black. I have no idea why my mother claims to love him. She wakes up almost every day with a black eye. How is that meant to be love?
For the first few months, Ryan was the perfect man. We were starting to be happy again. Then it all changed.
Ryan started spending most of his days at work. He said he had business trips to complete. Then arguments with my mom got physical and violent. I would just sit in my room against the door, not knowing what to do. I felt helpless and weak. Ryan began getting drunk; he'd come home and start shouting and throwing things at Mom.

Then it happened:
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The suffocating tension was heavy in the air between mom and me while we sat at the dinner table in silence as the front door slammed shut, signalling Ryan was back. The scent of stale cigarettes, alcohol, and dirt invades my senses as footsteps approach down the hallway. I know what is coming, and all I want to do is hide in the corner.
Ryan walks up behind mom's chair, grabbing a handful of her hair and dragging her to her feet. "What did I say about waiting on me for fucking dinner?" he spits out. "I give you this fucking mansion with everything you need, just for you not to eat fucking dinner with me?!" His voice is venomous as he pulls her hair harder. I'm sure it will fall off. Tears fall from Momi's eyes, making her mascara smudge.
It's not her fault. We never know when he will come back. Sometimes he goes away for weeks. "Fucking answer, me, you piece of sh*t!"

"I'm sorry," mom says between her sobs. Ryan laughs, and my blood boils as tears run down my face. "Leave her alone!" It comes out before I can stop myself. Ryan pauses, turning his head towards me and giving me a cruel look. He immediately lets Mom go, pushing her to the floor as he walks towards me. I swallow as I watch mom land on her already bruised face that she tried to hide with makeup, tears running down my face as Ryan slowly walks up to me.
"What did I tell you about talking back to me?" His hand grips my hair like a vice, making me stand on my toes with a force that makes my head spin. I bite back a cry as pain shoots through me, knowing that if I continue to show him that I am scared, I will only be allowing him to win and feel power.

"Fuck you!" I spit in his face.
The first blow lands with a sickening thud, another and another, sending waves of pain rippling through my body. I can taste blood rippling through my mouth and the sting of tears burning my eyes. Through the pain and tears in my eyes, I catch sight of mom, her eyes filled with silent tears running down her face as she helplessly watches from where Ryan pushed her to the floor. I want to scream out to her to make it stop, make him stop, and save me and us from this nightmare, but the words die in my throat. "You want to speak back, huh? Why don't we use those lips for something useful?"