WHO KILLED VICTORIA? | Complete

Chapter Forty Four | She Cried

Victoria's POV

The Night Of Victoria's Death...

I saw his car park outside my house at midnight. The sound of his tires sent me jumping out of bed and onto the window like a child waiting impatiently for the ice cream truck. Only this truck sold pints of pain and small licks of agony every time it came. I ran downstairs to open the door and there he was—the face I expected I would never see again, and I can't say I wasn't a tad disappointed.

"Dad," I said, confusion obvious on my face. He looked drunk and in need of something, but again, I don't remember the last time I saw him without that look on his face. The look of neediness. The look of discouragement, hatred towards me and everything I stand for. He busted into the house like he hadn't been gone for the past two months or so, looking through the cupboards where he once left his alcohol. His smell reeked of vodka and gin and everything that gave you a little taste of a false reality.

"What the fuck do you want?" I asked, but my words entered one ear and left the other unheard.

I can't lie, it was starting to irritate me—irritate me so much that I didn't realize that when he stopped and looked towards me, he was not looking at me at all. His face was dripping sweat, and his emotions were clearly dissociated from reality, but his eyes were fixated on the coffee table.

"Since when did you start smoking weed, you prick?" His first words to me in months couldn't have not had a curse word. I mean, how could they?

All I wanted to do right there and then was to grab a joint and turn it off in between his eyeballs. Make him feel a sliver of the pain he had put me through all this time when he decided to get up and leave me here all alone. I wanted to grab him by the collar and scream at him. To tell him to fuck off back to where he came from. To tell him to make me feel loved for even a moment in this shitty life he has provided for us. But before I could open my mouth to say a single word, I felt his fist smash against my jaw and drop me down to the floor.

***

I woke up to the feeling of my back scraping what felt like grass. I could tell we were going up somewhere even though my mind was still slightly unconscious from the punch I received. The world was going in circles, and I could barely bring myself to move.

"It's okay," I heard him whisper to himself, "You didn't mean to kill her. It's not your fault." He winced. I wanted to yell. I wanted to send him a sign that I was still alive, but I couldn't. I couldn't move my jaw. I couldn't bring myself to speak.

With all the power I could attain, I tried, but I could only go as far as putting my hand on my stomach. That was when the astounding amount of pain sent me screaming awake.

He stabbed me.

I slowly started recollecting skits and bits from what happened at the house—how he punched me and then nicked me in the stomach, how my head bashed into the floor, how he said, "You bitch. You drank all the alcohol and kept nothing for me just like your mom," how he dragged my bleeding body and shoved me in the back seat.

This was it, I thought to myself. This is how the queen of Rivervine finally falls. A drunk father guts her for drinking his liquor and tries forgiving himself for it before he even bothers checking if she was still alive.

He turned to find me struggling, pushing his hand away with all my might, but he was too drunk to care. He simply turned and kept on pulling me. I tried looking over at him, trying to see where he was pulling me to, but all I could see was darkness—complete and utter darkness.

It's quite an odd feeling, being so close to death. I couldn't help but think of Isabella and wonder how she felt when I pushed her off the mountain. How many dreams she must have had, how many more morning plans she expected to go out and enjoy with her new promotion. How much I took from her because I was simply jealous of her for taking a man I loved away from me—Samuel.

His name played over in my head over and over again, and that's when I noticed where we actually were. The mountain.

I screamed out Samuel's name, hoping to God that today was not the day he chose to move on from Isabella's death. Hoping he was mourning her on the mountain. "Samuel!" I screamed, but there was no reply. "Samuel!" I cried out loud again, and on the third try, I heard twigs snapping, and my body finally stopped dragging dirt with it.

I heard a loud thud and a body collapsing on the floor. Within seconds, I saw his body on top of mine, touching my hair gently with his fingertips like he used to, reminding me of how good I had it, and how badly I missed it.

"It's going to be okay," I heard him whisper as my body went to sleep. "It's going to be okay." He lied, and then the world finally went dark one last time.

But it was okay because I got to get a taste of heaven one last time.

I got to feel him next to me.

I got to hear his voice.