What You Are (SLOWLY REWRITING)

Chapter 3: Runes

Chapter 3: Runes

*well, he was holding a dagger*

My body wracked with violent shudders as I tried to crawl up the bed post - one leg and all. My bed shoved against the wall as dad got to the end of it. Lithely, he hopped onto the bed, causing it to groan in protest. That sinister smile was still etched across his face as he inched closer.

When he was a breaths width away from me, he stopped and glared into my eyes, loathing pouring out of them like water from a stream. As he glared, time seemed to drag on. Silently, I begged him to do whatever it was he wanted to do now - not drag it out. The silence wrapped around me, suffocating me. With each passing second, my terror intensified.

Suddenly, he hit me across the face with the hilt of the dagger, my head cracking against the bed post with the force of the slap.

"That was for killing those pieces of filth you used to hang around with." He spat out. "And trust me, that slap is nothing compared to what's to come. I'm going to make you wish you were never born. Make you beg for death." As he talked, he dragged the dagger across my skin - not enough to draw blood but enough to increase my terror by about 100 notches.

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth as he slowly taunted me. I wouldn't be surprised if I had a few teeth missing. As I trembled, Dad continued to drag the dagger across my skin in patterns, leaving slight scratches in its wake. Desperately, I thought of ways to escape, my skin tingling where the dagger had touched. Screaming would do no good - if I actually managed to make a sound, I'd probably end up choking on the blood that had accumulated in my mouth. If I tried to get out of his grip, I'd get cut by the dagger and to even think of running away with my broken calf would be ludicrous. I had the element of surprise on my side but that was it - unless I magically grew wings, there was no way I would be able to move myself out of the room fast enough.

As an act of desperation, I clawed at his face, aiming for his eyes. He roared in anger, his eyes flashing a dangerous shade of red. Blood trickled down his face where I had scratched him. I let out a soft oomph of triumph.

Before I knew what was happening, my hands were pinned above my head, the dagger inches from my face.

"You little scumbag!!! You filthy piece of dirt - how dare you!" He growled, the dagger inching closer and closer to my cheek. I whimpered as the cold metal touched my skin. In one swift slash, he cut down my face, starting at my left eyebrow, missing my eye and dragging it down to the corner of my mouth. Pain blinded me as a scream tore from my throat. Blood cascaded down my face in rivulets, soaking my dirty clothes Scarlet.

My mind began to go into overdrive, trying to numb my pain. I struggled and writhed beneath dad's rough hands, earning cackles of laughter at my futile attempts at escape.

"That's it, try to get free. Ooh - sorry, is that too hard for you?" He mocked me, his lean frame shaking with laughter.

I spat blood into his face in resentment and defiance. His eyes narrowed dangerously at me and he brought my arms forward with a snap.

"Don't test my patience girl." He snarled.

I glared up at him with one eye, keeping the other shut as not to get blood in it. All my pain had turned into anger. Fury was bubbling inside of me like molten lava. I was a bull that saw red - ready to charge with all I had, even if it meant getting hurt even more. Slowly, I leaned forward so that my mouth was level with his nose. Swiftly, I opened it and bit down over his nose, squeezing with all my might until I heard a crunch.

An inhuman roar filled the room, cracking the plaster on the walls and making the door shake violently.

"You little mongrel! You'll pay for that!" He growled, his words coming out nasal and squeaky.

I began to laugh hysterically at his pathetic attempt at an insult, my body shaking with my laughter. Soon, I began to cackle at the whole situation and felt my grasp on sanity begin to slip.

A sharp pain radiated from my arm and I looked down to find my dad slashing furiously it with the knife. Somehow, I began to laugh even more, tears of hysteria streaming down my cheeks. He carried on, carving symbols into my skin. Swiftly, he worked his way down my arm and then back up it, switching to my other one when he ran out of room.

Then, he cut open my top, carving more symbols around my belly button. When he was done, he did the same to my thighs. I carried on laughing as he did it, finding the severe pain exceptionally funny.

Blood began to pool on the bed around me, spilling from my multiple wounds. My stomach began to cramp from how much I was laughing and somewhere along the line, I stopped, letting an eery silence descend upon us. Before long, the room was filled with dads panting as he began to chant in Gaelic. I looked down at the bloody mess that my body was, smiling at the symbols carved onto my skin. 'Thy're so pretty.' I thought as they began to glow, lighting up the room. 'Must be runes like the ones nana draws on my door. Gosh - they're so, so pretty.' With that last thought, my eyelids drooped closed, plunging me into a world of darkness.