Wrath

Chapter 1: Wills

Chapter 1: Wills

12 HOURS EARLIER

Zara

"So this is the bitch boss was telling us about?" the masked man sneered, eyeing my body up and down, making my skin crawl with disgust. I closed my eyes when his leering gaze fell upon my chest and lit up like he found his prize.

I tried to move back, but instantly his hand shot out and gripped my arm, and with a painful tug, he pulled me towards him.

"She is a beauty, though." I trembled under his touch as he trailed his finger down my cheek, wiping the trail of tears, "It would be a waste to kill her without enjoying her first."

"No." I sobbed, "Please, please don't do this."

He laughed, enjoying the way I squirmed beneath his touch. His deep green eyes glinted, terrifying me to my core.

I looked to my right and saw the lifeless eyes of my parents, their bodies covered in blood.

"Oh kitten, you can't run away from me."

With that he picked me up by my hair and shoved me on the couch.

I begged, I cried. I frantically thrashed my arms and feet. But nothing seemed to stop him. He was too strong and I was no match for him.

"NOOOO!"

I shot up from my bed, perspiration dripping down my face, mixing with the tears. My throat burned and I clawed at it to release the pain. I turned to my right and picked up the glass of water, drinking it all in one go.

Fragments of the nightmare flitted through my mind and I closed my eyes, desperately trying to overcome the pain. My body trembled and my heart ached, my lungs still gasping for air.

I placed the glass back on my nightstand and looked at the clock, the date and time blinking in neon light.

6:00 am.

January 8th.

I sighed and pushed away the covers, knowing I won't be able to sleep again.

Today marks the second anniversary of my parents' death.

The day my parents and I returned home from the movies only to find our front door open and three men seated in the living room. Before we could even react, the middle one raised his gun and shot my father in the chest and then did the same to my mother, after which he proceeded to throw me on the couch as he mercilessly had his way with me while his two guards enjoyed the show.

When he was done breaking me, both mentally and physically, they all left. They thought they had left me for dead. And I wished I was too. I don't know how long I was curled up on the couch, wishing for death to take me. Sadly, that wish wasn't granted.

Bleeding and bruised, I got up from the couch and called 911.

Before the police even arrived, I had passed out on the floor, cradling my parents' dead bodies in my lap.

As unfortunate as this coincidence was, today was also my birthday. But well, you are never in a mood to celebrate when all you have as birthday presents are a shit ton of memories, memories that include the murder of your parents and of yourself getting raped.

I sighed and got up from my bed. After taking a long hot shower that did little to soothe my agitated mind, I put on a pair of sweatpants and a white tank top, only to come back and lie down on the bed again.