Fatal attraction

Chapter 8: Flashback Beneath the surface.

Then

Maya sat in the dimly lit living room, her tiny body curled up on the worn-out couch. She was six years old, clutching her favourite teddy bear tightly to her chest. The sounds of her parents arguing in the kitchen filled the air, a familiar but terrifying occurrence. It seemed like they were arguing about her. She shouldn't be overhearing this conversation but she couldn't help it. "She's just a child, Paul!" her mother, Anna, pleaded, her voice trembling. "She didn't mean to leave her toys in the kitchen. Why do you have to be so hard on her?"

Paul's eyes blazed with fury as he slammed his fist on the counter. "Because she needs to learn discipline, Anna! If we don't correct her now, she'll grow up to be just as useless as you!"

Anna flinched at his words, tears welling up in her eyes. "She's our daughter, Paul. She's not useless. She's sweet and kind and... and scared. You're scaring her."

Paul sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "She's weak. And if you keep coddling her, she'll never toughen up. Life is hard, and she needs to be prepared for it. Do you want her to end up as a failure like you? Both of you should be grateful you even have me as provider."

Anna's voice broke, a mix of anger and sorrow. "No, Paul I am really grateful, I don't want her to end up as a failure obviously. But there has to be another way. Hitting her, calling her names... it's not right."

Paul's voice turned cold. "You don't know what you're talking about. This is my house, and I make the rules. If you can't handle that, then maybe you should leave."

The words hung heavy in the air, a cruel ultimatum that left Anna silent, her shoulders slumped in defeat. She glanced toward the living room, where young Maya sat clutching her teddy bear, her eyes wide with fear.

"Please, Paul," Anna whispered, her voice barely audible. "She's just a little girl."

Paul's face twisted, "Then that little bitch better start acting like it," he snapped before turning and storming out of the kitchen, leaving Anna with her heart breaking for her daughter.

In the living room, Maya's tiny body trembled, her ears ringing with the echoes of her parents' argument. She felt the sting of her father's anger even before he laid a hand on her, and the pain of her mother's helplessness cut just as deep.

"Maya!" he bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. "What did I tell you about leaving your toys in the kitchen?"

Maya's heart pounded in her chest, her small hands trembling as she held onto her bear. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to."

He didn't care about her apologies. His hand shot out, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her off the couch. Maya whimpered, tears streaming down her face as she tried to keep up with his furious pace.

In the kitchen, her mother stood by the sink, her eyes filled with fear and helplessness. She didn't intervene. She never did.

Her father dragged Maya to the centre of the room and pushed her to the floor. "Get up!" he shouted. "Stand up straight and look at me!"

Maya scrambled to her feet, her body shaking with fear. She stood before him, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

"You're worthless," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You can't do anything right. You're just a burden."

He raised his hand, and Maya flinched, bracing herself for the impact. His hand came down hard, striking her across the face. She stumbled back, the pain searing through her cheek.

"Don't you dare cry," he growled. "Crying is for the weak. Are you weak, Maya?"

"N-no, Daddy," she whispered, trying to hold back the sobs that tried to escape.

"Good," he sneered. "Now clean up this mess and go to your room. I don't want to see your face for the rest of the night."

Maya nodded, her movements mechanical as she picked up the scattered toys. Her father watched her with cold eyes, his presence a constant shadow of terror. Once the living room was clean, she fled to her room. Where she finally led out her sobs in her pillow.