PROLOGUE
My palms were sweating. I needed a towel to dry the grip I had on the table leg. Shattered glass was scattered across the tiled floor, a puddle of beer following the pieces. My wrists were pounding from the pain. I know better now, not to resist.
Faint screams were bouncing off the walls. I was forcibly pulled to my feet. His lips were moving, but I couldn't make out the words being said. Again, he whacked my face with the back of his hand, harder than the last time. I could feel my cheek turning bright red. I tried to run. I later learned that that was a mistake. I got half way to the door, only to be thrown down to my knees. Repeatedly, he kicked my stomach and shoulders. I felt intense pain that I'd never thought I could feel. A sharp sound cut through my head, and his words became audible again.
"Don't run from me!" He was shouting.
I rolled over so my back was facing him to protect my ribs when my eyes came across a loose floor board in the hallway. My mind had a plan and took action before my body processed the thought. I then shrieked as loud as I possibly could, trying hard not to give up. I crawled, or squirmed I should say, over toward the hallway on my belly. He followed, continuing this harsh beating. I managed enough strength to out-stretch my bruised leg, and trip him in this process. Finally in the hallway, I got to my feet, but nearly stumbled back down due to the pain in my middle. I shook it away and shoved my foot deeply under the loose board repeatedly until it popped out. I could hear the sound of his boots stomping in my direction. He had come at least a foot away from me, when I yanked the board out of the floor with my hands, and slammed it against his forehead. He then fell to the ground, motionless, which gave me just enough time to slip out of his house.
