Fallen (editing)

Chapter 14

Father pulls me by my hair, until we're eye to eye.
He smirks and slaps me across the face. Blood drips from my cheek and he throws me down.
"Do you want mercy? Is that what you want, Sylt? Do you want someone to save you?"
He sneers down at me, his eyes gleaming.
I glower at him and struggle to my feet.
One of the guards hand him a whip and he strikes at my neck.
Searing pain slices through my torso as another whip hits me.
I grit my teeth, struggling to stay upright.
The cheers of the crowd drown out my thoughts. Their screams and jeers crash against my head, making it hard to think straight.
Father steps forward, raising his arms in glory.
Then he sneers at me, raising his massive, clawed foot and kicks me in the chest.
I let out a gasp as the air bursts from my lungs.
He kicks me again and waves his arms around me.
"You have fallen." He spits at me, droplets of liquid splattering against my cheek. Anger boils in me.
He bends down and punches me squarely in the jaw. Blood drips from the cuts on my head.
Everything goes blank.

I wake up, my back drenched with sweat. I breathe hard and I feel pins and needles along my body. I shake my head violently.
I stagger out of bed, hastily raising my drenched shirt over my head.
I stumble into the bath room, groping for the light switch. I flick it on and stare at my reflection.
My hair is purple, not even that muddled color from the dye. My eyes are wide, my iris blending in with the bloodshot whites. My face is beaded with sweat and pale.
I shake my head again and splash water onto my face. I stretch out my arms and chest, trying to get the sickly-sticky feeling out of it.
I falter and look at my reflection.
There's a thin red mark going across my torso.
And a massive, clawed foot- shaped bruise over my rib cage.