The Lost Queen

Chapter Five

Warning: Abuse and Language

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Daya's P.O.V.

I woke up around 6:00 so that I can cook breakfast and leave early for school to get my ID. I already texted Carter James, the human who is selling me the fake ID, to meet me at the school at 7:00 because it takes him about 30 minutes to make one inside technology class.

I stuffed the little black box with my passport and money in my back pack, just in case someone decides to go through my room. I walked up the stairs as quietly as I can to not wake up any of the pack members. I successfully made it out of the front door in one piece and started on my way to school.

                  ~~~At School~~~

When I arrived I made my way into the Technology class where Carter should be. There is no one here besides the janitor and maybe the principle. Other than that the halls are empty. Once I was in the classroom I looked around finding Carter at a computer typing fast. I walked up to him and spook softly,

"Hi, umm...is it done?" He looked up at me a little startled from my sudden action.

His glasses were leaning on the tip of his nose looking ready to fall off until he slid them back up with his finger. He is cute with his curly brown hair and brown eyes hidding behind his glasses. I always had a small crush on him, because he was the only one to be nice to me and talk to me. But I knew we could never be together. He looked up at me giving me a small smile before going back to typing.

"Hey Daya, it's just going to take one more minute then I'm done." He said still typing away.

I nodded my head even though he can't see and took a seat next to him, watching his movements. I could have did it myself but I don't have the resources and I'm afraid I would get caught. I am a straight A student and could have been graduated and gone to any college but my parents wanted me to have the whole "high school experience". Bullshit. They just wanted me to stay locked away here.

Keeping his word, Cater was done in one minute handing me the ID that looks so real. I thanked him looking at the clock on the wall to see that it's only 7:15. I walked to the library to pass time studying.

                   ~~~After School~~~

School was the same as always. Nothing special. When the torture was over I came home and cooked and cleaned. I haven't seen my main abuser at all today, aka my father. I haven't been getting beaten that bad lately and I have a feeling something is off. Luckily I'm leaving tonight so none of this matters.

I lay in my bed with my back pack ready with all of my belongings. It's already 11:30 at night but I'm trying to wait till midnight to make sure every one is asleep. Just sitting here doing nothing makes me remember all of the horrible things I have been through here...

*Flash Back*

I was 16 years old and wanted to run away from home. I packed my bags and was ready to go. But before I went I knew I had to tell me parents but it didn't go well at all.

It was noon and I just got done with making everyone something for lunch. I walked upstairs to the 2nd floor of the three storie pack house where my parents room is located. If I passed someone I would keep my head down and step out of their way like I was taught.

I lightly knocked on the door stepping back waiting for it to open. I had my back pack on my shoulder and had on my usual sweater and jeans, along with my black converses.

"Come in." I heard my fathers voice shout from the other side of the door causing to me jump.

I slowly opened door peering in to see my father and mother on the bed coudling and watching television. When they saw me a frown instantly made it's way onto their face.

"What?" My father scowled at me untangling himself from my mother and standing up crossing his arms, my mother following his lead.

I'm literally shaking in fear. How am I supposed to tell them that I don't want to be here? That I can't take the abuse anymore? I took a deep breath and spook...

"I-I don't want to be here anymore... P-Please let m-me go please." I begged them looking at both of them with pleading eyes.

I thought I saw my mother's eyes soften but it was gone as soon as a furious growl ripped through the room and it was replaced by a glare. My father rushed towards me grabbing me by the arms and pulling me out the room door.

"Please Daddy Please." I pleaded with him once again, using the name I used to call him before he first hit me.

He never allows me to call him dad or daddy. Only sir or father, but I would rather call him sir because he is nothing close to a father to me. I thought that if  I used daddy that some type to feeling will resurface, but all it did was upset him more.

"Don't call me that!" He screamed in my face, grabbing my hair and tugging me down the hall, down the stairs.

It felt as though he was trying to pull my hair from my scalp. He pulled me down the stairs by my hair towards the cellars. I knew what was coming next.

"No! Please stop! I'm sorry!" I sobbed, struggling against his hold.

From all of the commotion I could see pack members come and watch the show, enjoying seeing me suffer. I looked behind me to see my mother following us with a blank expression on her face.

"Help me...please." I begged her once again exhausted with being yanked and pulled down a full flight of stairs and from yelling and crying.

When we reached the cellar doors, he flung them open throwing me inside. He shut the door behind us and kicked me in my side repeated causing me to spit up blood, cowering to the floor. I whimpered and cried but that didnt seem to stop him. He continued to kick me, shout at me and punch me.

After another 10 to 15 minutes of just being the shit out of me, he decided to stop. He dragged my limp body towards a wall with silver shackles, cuffing me by my wrists and ankles by them. As soon as the silver touched my skin I let out an eat splitting scream. They burned so much sinking into my flesh. My wrists and ankles are raw now. I sat on the floor completely numb from all the pain. I looked up into my fathers eyes, who is still fumming, and spit the blood that was in my mouth out on to his shoes. He let out a threatening growl and just left the room slamming the door.

I was left in the room for a whole week without food or water.

*Flash Back Over*

That was the worst beating I have ever gotten. That's why I'm so afraid of leaving again and getting caught.

I reached up and touched my face to feel wet tears running from my eyes down my face. I hurriedly wiped my eyes checking the time.

11:57, My phone read.

I picked up my bag and made my way up the basement steps, careful not to make too much noise. Before opening the door I heard a furious and menacing howel in the night that shook the whole house. It was more like a declaration of war. Oh Shit.

A/N

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