*Prologue*
I probably didn't have as much time as I did now to reflect--when I'm dead flat against the ground and clothes soaked in water. It took a few minutes to remind myself that the thick red liquid surrounding me was not water.
"Sweetheart, what did I tell you about running?" His voice sneered at me, and a set of footsteps clacked against the wooden floor. Even through the haze possessing my field of vision, I could still make out the wrinkles and creases of his leather shoes. And suddenly harmless shoes were replaced with his face that was curled up, watching me as if waiting for any reaction.
Knowing what happened the last time and the many times before, I kept a straight face. His hand met my cheek. The world began shaking, I began shaking, and the persistent ringing in my ear forced my eyes shut. Footsteps clacked against the wooden floor, this time away from me as I was pulled into an emerging blanket of darkness.
Maybe this time I would finally die. But that's just wishful thinking. It was an endless cycle engraved in my mind; he would find us, perform his rituals on me, then leave. Mother and I would have to move to another place. With what we had left, we could barely afford it, yet we knew that anything was better than waiting for another one of his visits.
If Mother came back home, she'd find me and we'd be running again.
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I'm open for many constructive criticism, I know I'm not perfect. Feel free to PM or comment the flaws in my book.
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My Fault
Fantasy"'Hide and seek huh? I love games.' The voice said, right behind me. I whirled around and saw him with a knife from the kitchen. He smiled, 'Found you.'" Zelia had always been fond of being the tagger in a game of tag until she was the person bei...
