The Missing Musketeer

Prologue

The pain burns,it's like being stuck into over 100 ovens for over 100 seconds,I am trying to take in breaths that aren't even there without screaming bloody murder.
Tears begin to stream down my face,which causes him to push the fire poker into my back harder and I can bet,with all my life, he had reached bone now,while ruthlessly kicking in my ribs.

I knew,before he even started,that my ribs would all be broken,very severely,but I didn't care,and at this point,I know you are all thinking,their should be spots dancing in my vision,but they had only danced there on the first time he decided to hurt me - the week after she died.

After that,the pain grew so intense that it chased the spots away. I bet the second I wake up tomorrow morning,he'll will be off to the wine cellar he made. While I slowly cleaned up my cuts and the house,before another session of touring.

But then he began screaming into my ear,about her,blaming me,when he knew,he had led her to die a painful death with no mercy,as she bled out from the injuries he gave her.He told his friends,he would take care of me,and remind me of her.

But there is no caring,

Or kindness.

Or acknowledgements of my mother being near him,

At all.

And that's how it's been for 5 years.

But as he finished with one final punch to the face,he threw me into my room,the only place he left to me ANYWHERE in his heart,I barely got up and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked like her,the second before she died,as I held her hand,her last dying breath,was used to say to me,"No matter what happens,you are a fighter,"

I knew,the second the loving look had left,she had died,but I didn't flinch,on the outside,but on the inside,it where as if a war had started,as to if I could EVER survive without her. I knew at that moment,that I was to live up to my mother's last dying breath,so I flimsily guided myself to my closet,pathetically,and reached for my mothers picture,that I had managed to salvage and the rest of my treasured belongings - I was sick and tired of being the loser,the one that was left with no life,no was my chance to become the fighter,and I wasn't going to miss it,not again,not ever.