Three

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"Tory?!" Liana's voice bounding off the brick walls around us. She sighs as she drags around my intoxicated body by the hip. "Damn it Tara. Carry more of your weight, your heavy."

I can feel her struggling to keep me standing. The world around me but a barf of random colors.

"TORY!" Again my friend's voice echoes around us, calling our lost friend.

Quietly I feel my mind slip away, churning into different far off thoughts. Lost in my own world, the drunken ideas crowd and burst through my mind.

"Lianaaaa" my voice a slurred whine. "Im hungry."

"Well too bad, we have to find Tory." Her voice filled with annoyance and determination.

"Can I just go home?" Recent events slip my mind as I purr at the thoughts of food.

I hear her sigh or what seems like a sigh, it may have been a huff.

"Fine, but you owe me." Anger flutters in her sweet voice.

"If you wish to think such a thing then sure." My voice jumping into random gurgles of laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My house bobs in my intoxicated sight. My mind full of the sweet mist of alcohol, but slowly fading away as time ticks by.

The slow jumbled tap of my shoes hitting the pavement fills my ears. Far of horns blow with the wind in my ears, followed by the roll of tires.

"Is this the right house?" Liana perks up a little waiting for my response.

We stop in front of the cute brick trail leading to the door of my house. A dark feeling washes through my veins. My absent mind forgetting the torturous thoughts of my life.

"Oh, ya." My voice shaken with a deep slur.

With the soft wind tousling my hair over the bruises on my shoulders, we walk towards the door. My pain forgotten as I think of the sweet taste of food.

Loudly, Liana bursts through my front door. My withered form hanging from her arm. Letting Liana go I stumble to stand on my own as I slam the door shut. Throwing off my shoes I run to the kitchen, Liana following quietly behind.

Laughing, I throw open the fridge and pull out a large pickle jar. Slamming the fridge door with my hip, I sit cross legged on the floor. Struggling to open the jar before I start stare up at Liana.

"Can you open this, pweeeease?" I whine.

Theres a long pause of silence but she starts to shuffle closer.

Suddenly, a loud eruption of noise confuses my wild mind. Heavy footsteps trample down the stairs. Panic rushes through my stomach.

"Hide!" I whisper abruptly as I run to the near by closet.

"What, why?" Her voice filled with fright and confusion.

"He's gonna hurt me again." I turn around and grab her arm, pulling her behind me into the damp dark tiny closet.

The footsteps stop as they hit the landing of the stair case. Deep angry laughter fills every nook around me, torturing and grinding my ears. The darkness in his laughter making my bones clatter and rustle under my skin. I can feel Liana stiffen beside me.

The laughter cuts short, replaced with a light whistle. The sound even more chilling. I know whats about to happen.

I clutch my eyes closed, whispering silent pleas for help. I hear the closet door being retched open, a high pitch squeal erupts beside me. A deep sigh burrows in my ears from in front of me.

"Tsk tsk. You filthy whores. What are you doing home?" His voice bounces off the walls around me, demanding and angry. "Look at me!"

Theres a painful jerk of my hand as I'm thrown to the floor.

"I asked you a fucking question!" I can feel spit landing on my face.

"S-sir?" Liana's shaken voice calls from the closet.

"What?!" I hear him turn to her. "You stupid bitch. What the hell do you think you're doing in my house?!"

Theres a moment of silence till her squeak of a voice answers him.

"I-I was just t-taking your daughter home..." I can hear the shake in her voice.

The chilling laughter ruptures again. Even louder this time, a sour taste fills my mouth as my stomach clenches at the sound.

"My daughter?!" His deep demanding voice sputters through the laughter. "She is but a murderous whore that the government demands my watch over."

His voice so plain, so serious, my insides feel broken. Shattered and shaken I open my eyes and watch as my father steps towards my friend. Something disgusting fills his eyes as he eyes her up and down.

He grabs her wrist demandingly pulling her from the closet.

"D-Don't touch me." She tries to pull out of his death grip.

"I will do no such thing!" An evil grin covers his face. "You cannot stop me."

A surge of anger fills me. How dare he touch her! How dare he think to harm such a defenceless dove! If he wants to hurt someone, he can hurt me.

"Dad. Take your fucking hands off my friend." Anger filling my voice, power fills my veins.

His large figure pauses, surprised.

I come to a standing position, grabbing a nearby knife from the counter.

"She is not yours. If you touch her, I will kill you. Filthy bastard. Thats right. I have a fucking voice." My voice nothing but strong, with the large knife hidden behind my thigh.

The deep laughter irritates my ears once again. This time so filled with entertainment its causing hiccups as his body shakes. His hand leaving Liana's arm, her scared form sliding back against the wall. She watches from as much distance as she can form away from his psychotic mind.

Slowly, he turns to face me. The laughter still bubbling from his chest.

"What do you think your doing?" He finally demands after calming himself.

"You're never going to touch her again." I make my voice loud and clear, staring deep into his eyes.

He pauses, actually taking me seriously for a moment before his eyes switch back to amused.

"And how do you plan to stop me?" He stares me down.

"Guess." No emotion fills my voice, my intoxication forgotten as I stare down my only enemy.

"You've got nothing." He states plainly. "You're stupid."

Suddenly, my father falls forward, falling plain on his face. Bewildered, I stare at his unconscious body. Slowly, I look up at a scared Liana. An old rusty shovel clangs on the floor in front of her, falling from her shaking fingers.

"I-I didn't want him to hurt you." She stutters erratically, I drop the knife.

Quickly, I run too pull her into a hug. Holding her tight, my arms wrap around her frightening frame. Her silent sobs start to soak my shirt but I don't notice. Too occupied with the burden of my father, I think of the things intended to happen next.

What do we do? We can't leave him like this. He'll just come find us if we run.

After around ten minutes of sobs and racing thoughts, I form a plan.

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