|Dear Aiden|Justin Bieber|

|Dear Aiden|Justin Bieber|22|

I lay on the floor, my arms stinging and bleeding. He left me here to feel the burning of the fresh cuts he’d inflicted upon me. I felt so hopeless. Fear of death had fled from my mind. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was more accepting than anything. Tears dripped down the sides of my face, my mascara running with them. I turned over to look in the shattered mirror that was leaned against the wall across from me. I saw everything in the eyes of the girl who looked back at me. I realized how much I looked like my mother. I had her eyes. Just like everyone said. I remembered my mom’s smiling face, and realized that I had her smile as well. Then, in a brief moment of courage, I remembered that I was her only hope of getting out of this.

I absentmindedly, and without second thought, slowly started to sit up. My ribs hurt, for he had kicked me plenty of times to bruise at least a few of my ribs. The pain took my breath away but I was determined to get my mother out of this, even if it meant that I wouldn’t make it with her. I clumsily found my way to my feet and quietly walked around the corner, looking immediately at the door where he was keeping my mother. I took a slow painful breath and continued silently to the door. When I was about half way there, I tripped on something, and a shelf came tumbling down. It had happened almost in slow motion for me, and before I knew it I could hear Robert walking upstairs.

I ran to the closet door and unlocked it from the outside, “Mom, I want you to run. He’s going to come down here and see what I’ve done, and I want you to run like you’ve never ran before. Run like when you were in track in high school, okay mama? Don’t be afraid, you’ll get out. You just have to run.”

I heard a small whimper from the other side of the door and then pressed myself against the hard basement wall. The thumps from Robert coming down the stairs seemed to match my heavily beating heart.

“Aiden, what is it you think you’re going to pull, here?” I heard him say and I began looking around frantically for something to use against him. I remembered the Zippo lighter in my pocket. Immediately, though it was irrelevant to me a few seconds ago, I realized that there was a container of lighter fluid on the shelf that fell over, which was now creating a puddle on the floor. I could smell the fuel in the air as it was being soaked into the concrete floor.  I rounded the corner slowly, holding my side, and he automatically made eye contact with me. I had no emotion. He lunged for me, an angered look on his face, and grabbed me around my neck. Adrenaline alleviated all pain for the amount of time it took me to get him on the ground. I yelled for my mother to run as Robert tried to recuperate from his fall.

I heard the rattling of the door knob and just as she ran past us, Robert gripped my ankle and I came falling hard to the ground, hitting my head.  I was very dizzy for a few seconds and then I noticed that my mom had stopped running at the stairs to look back at me. With my eyes filling with tears as I was almost certain that I wouldn’t be seeing her again, I choked out the word “go.” She hesitantly turned back towards the stairs and began running up them.

Robert attempted to run after her, but I latched myself onto his leg and anchored him down. He began to beat relentlessly at my head, pulling my hair, as he called out my mother’s name in an angered tone.  Eventually, I became too weak from blood loss caused by the cuts up and down my arms and he was able to shake me off. He stomped over to where I landed after he flung me away from his leg and stepped on my knee and I heard a gut wrenching snapping noise and a sharp pain ran through my leg. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the lighter from my pocket. He laughed a menacing chuckle and asked, “What do you think you’re going to be able to accomplish with that?” I didn’t answer. I only lit the flame and threw it over to where the puddle of gasoline had formed. Immediately, half of the entire basement burst into flames. Shocked and drunk, he stumbled a little when the orange glow consumed the basement. The heat was already scorching.