"Stop it, please. I beg you. Leave me". He did not listen to my pleas, his filthy hands roamed all over my leg, no matter how hard I tried to shove them, they still remained there.
Every word that left from his mouth, was stained with the smell of smoke, it invaded my senses making me gag.
His fingers squeezed my jaw, forcing me to look at him.
"Look at me" he said in an eerily calm voice, yet I kept on shaking my head from side to side.
"I said look at me" he screamed at me, and took another puff of his cigarette, blowing its smoke on my face. Applying pressure on my jaw once again.
"You worthless shit, you good for nothing brat." He growled at me, my eyes trained on him, not a whimper left from my mouth. Nor did I try to struggle to move.
" it's a shame to call you my sister, I wish you were dead", coming even more closer to my face, his eyes redder than ever, and his face sickly pale with hollowed features. He jerked my head backwards and stood up, walking over to the coffee table, he grabbed a glass and threw at my feet, screaming.
My heart was thumping loudly, my breath ragged and eyes wide. But again not a sound that left from my lips, "why don't you just die?" he screamed at me, fisting his hands in his hair then throwing it up in frustration.
Quickly he bent over to the coffee table, where a thin line of white powder, presumably cocaine, and a note was kept. Rolling the note he sniffed the powder in and threw his head back releasing a breath with his eyes closed.
He opened his eyes and once again he trained them on me, in a quick motion he slapped me right across my face.
"I will kill you." He whispered in my ear.
I woke up, my heart was thumping inside my chest, and my ears throbbed, while my body was covered in a cold thin sheen of sweat. Somehow I gathered myself and got up, carefully making my way to the bathroom to clean up. Once I was done, I came to the living room and cleared the mess on the floor.
I tried to push my past back into my mind, and I was successful in doing so, until today. It seemed everything came back to me again, haunting me, forcing me recall my traumatic past.
I knew I was safe now, but that feeling of uneasiness never went away. That specific night came back to me and I am still traumatized by it. The worst part of this is that, nobody except my family knew of this, not even my closest of my friends. It didn't seem important to me to tell them, plus I was afraid it would bring back some memories which were buried with me from a long time.
Shaking these thought out of my mind, I went to bed, with a silent prayer. I pulled the duvet to my chin and closed my eyes. I woke up soon, due to the ringing of the bell, a little part of me was afraid that it would be him, but it thankfully it wasn't.
Aron stood there, worry etched across his features.
"Why didn't you answer my texts? I called you so many times. Do you know how worried I was? What if something happened to you, I would never forgive myself, Aisla. What's wrong with you?" he bombarded me with questions, with every line his octave seemed to be getting higher and higher and I winced at it.
He noticed it and pulled me towards himself, wrapping his arms around me, I stood there unable to take all of that, but soon I gave in and leaned against him.
"What's wrong Aisla?" this time, his voice soft and a hint of regret in it. I pulled apart, holding his hands in mine; I lied to him saying I caught a stomach bug, and slept the whole day.
He didn't seem to believe me but did not push it. Aron kept looking at me for a while, but I dared not look back at him. He placed his finger under my chin so that I would look up, removing a strand of hair on my forehead, he softly spoke "you can tell me, you know." His eyes searched mine. I nodded, "all in good time Aron, all in good time" I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. Again I was drawn to his chest, encased within his arms. No words exchanged, our breathes steady, but thoughts rickety.
He soon left. I was left alone, once again, in a house which resonated with loud silence. I was left with my thoughts and those horrible reminiscences of my past.
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Harley James Stark
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Destined Together (ON HOLD)
ЧиклитI never wanted to be in a relationship. I never had time for love. Then he came in. I fell for him. We broke up. Just to be back together. Was it fate? Was it a coincidence? Or were we Destined Together?