He watched the flames flicker, withering away the sharp tinder beneath it. It was a group of obedient embers, devouring their target through the thick, acrid smoke.
He continued encircling the rim of the glass with his index finger, a habit his deceased wife loathed. He stopped at the count of three, noticing the way his daughters uneven footsteps were approaching the living room where he sat.
'Is that what I am to you? A business deal?' Her shaky voice held cold resentment.
'You will marry him. No more questions.' He brushed away her emotions easily.
'I will never marry him.'
The silence hovering over the room was stiff and she could very well hear his grip tighten on the glass, a sickening, screeching sound as his nails scraped the curve.
'You will do as I say.' His aged teeth were gritted against each other, but she paid no heed. She was obstinate, just like her father.
She felt as if he had stabbed her in the chest, right where her heart ached with futile pain.
Her father would never love her.
'I am not going to make the same mistake Mama made, marrying you.'
She pulled at the last bit of his patience. And she noticed the way his posture stiffened under her words. Those words shot at him like a thousand arrows targeted at his back.
Her hands clasped over her ears desperately at the loud sound of glass meeting against the concrete tiles. He shot up from his seat to face her, shards of glass, ripping at his flesh. The blood oozed down in trickles against his pale white skin.
He easily covered the furnace with his tall figure; a shadow, depriving the room of any form of light.
Her insides surged with adrenaline, she knew to run out the room and lock herself in her bedroom but she didn't. Her feet remained glued to the floor.
'I will kill that poor son of a b**** right in front of you.' He was approaching her slowly, hesitatingly she stepped back.
'I won't spare that disabled piece of s*** either.'
She knew who he was referring to and she felt a pang of regret sting her heart. She should have never uttered those words.
'I don't know who you are talking-'
'You think I'm stupid?!' He walked towards his seat and pulled out a bunch of creased papers. Her eyes widened in fear at his hands crumpling each of them, effortlessly.
'You will watch these wither away in the fire, just like he will, one day.'
His hands scrunched them up, the sheets absorbing the blood that dripped onto it.
'No! Baba, please.' She ran over to him, the pieces of glass sticking to the soles of her shoes. She stopped in her tracks as he held up a hand to stop her. Her eyes dripped of useless tears, redness rimmed her waterline. She was rooted to the spot, the glass pricking her bare heels.
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Last Sacrifice | #Wattys2018
Romantizm'I can't stop.' His voice was husky and his breath, ragged. He backed her up against the wall, the warmth of his breath penetrating her ears and his lips lightly brushing against the soft skin of her earlobe. She closed her eyes, sucking in her bo...
