Synchronicity

VII ✧

- Trigger Warning -

𝓥𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽 𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓽

"You promised me!" I beat on his chest. "You promised, you're a liar!" I screeched.

I shot up. My blanket sliding off of me, and pooling in my lap, dripping with sweat.
I look around my room with panicked glances and uncontrollable breaths.

When I realise I'm completely alone, I run a hand through my hair and try to get my breathing under control. "It was a just a dream." I mutter to the empty room.

It was just a dream. I take a glance at my alarm clock, 6:55am

There is no way I was going back to sleep so I opted for an early shower. As I begin to climb out of bed, I feel an overwhelming pain in my side and wince.

Right. The Evil Witch.. I say evil this time because last night she was truly evil.

She was waiting for me when I came home.  Sitting there with a cruel grimace on her face. I tried to tell her where I had been but she wasn't listening, she was more interested to know why I hadn't done what she had asked me to do. One simple task.

Get her stuff.

She wasn't interested in my pleas and excuses, when she began to release her frustration into my body. She wanted to know what she ever did to deserve a sorry excuse of a life with me. She laughed manically while pelting full force kicks into my ribs. Telling me that 'she was being punished by having the devil himself forced upon her'

I should have known better. I should have been better. I will never get out of this, no matter what I do. It was the first time she ever hit me, i'm almost certain she enjoyed it. I have to get out, but where, with what money.

Just as I begin to push off my bed with struggle my door slams open.

"You're up." Witchy Christine said cheerfully.

I lifted my head to meet her hard gaze and stop myself from recoiling as she inches her way into my room. I wonder how many years you get for murder and decide my life is worth much more than throwing it away on her.

She doesn't acknowledge what happened the night before as she walks into my bedroom. I don't know what's worse, her pretending she's the best "mother" for taking me in or her pretending to not know that beneath my shirt lay bruises from her brutal torture.

"I was thinking of going shopping today" She wanders around my room and I see a hint of disgust cross her face when she notices the pile of trash that stack up beside my desk.

"It's a lovely day out.." a sigh. "Don't you think?" she looks at me knowingly.

I ignore the bile rising in my throat and force out a cough. I don't understand what she's getting at and more importantly, I don't understand why she's talking to me at all. "Yes, I guess so." I mutter.

She narrows her eyes at me. "For god sakes, chick. Perk up It's June 8th."

Dread pools in my stomach as the day dawns on me. Just when I think she couldn't get any crueler, she surprises me every time.

She takes note of my expression and a smirk creeps across her face. "The best day out of them all I think."

I clench my jaw and ball my hands into tight fists on my bed. Why is she doing this, I don't understand. How did I forget what day it was? Why does she suddenly remember.