If you were to ask me what I am thinking right now, I would answer nothing. My mind is blank as I listen to the horrified screams of my mother, as I am forced to watch my father abuse her. My mind is blank as all I can smell is my mother's blood as well as my own and the horrible stench of my father drenched in alcohol.
All I could do was sit in the chair that my father had tied me up to. All I could do was sit and listen. Every punch, every kick, every ounce of pain my mother felt was like a trophy for my father. Why is he doing this you might ask? Well in all honesty, I don't know. It all started when I was 4 but he wasn't as bad as he was now.
*flashback*
Clueless, that's what I was, clueless to everything around me as I sat in a paddock with my parents as I play with all the flowers that surrounded us. I was so distracted that I didn't realise it was time to go. I was so happy; I was smiling as I walked to the car. The smile reached my eyes as I spotted the most beautiful flower, it was pink with a beautiful green stem. I plucked it and quickly walked over to my dad and handed it to him. He smiled and said "what's this for?" I giggled and I replied "I wanted to say fank-you for today." Next, he did something I never expected him to do, he smirked, and no not a challenging smirk, an evil one. He used such a harsh tone as he said "I'm glad you enjoyed but it won't be happening again for a while." As he slapped me across the face. Those words, that sentence, that look will stay with me forever.
*flashback over*
As I came back into reality, I noticed my father walking toward me and my mother still behind him knocked out cold with a broken plate next to her head. He slowly got closer and closer, he had this look in his eyes, one that said 'I'm going to enjoy this.'
He had ended up in front of me, untied me. I stayed still in fear of what might happen if I was to move. He grabbed my head and forced me to stare at my unconscious mother. He ducked down so his lips were in line with my ear and whispered "don't get in my way otherwise next time this will be you." He then got up and walked out if our, now destroyed, living room.
YOU ARE READING
Untold
Short Story"Why put a new address on the same old loneliness?" This book is going to be short with a couple of sentences per chapter :-)
