Wilted Rose

Prologue

  An eleven year old, Elliot Katherine Madison moved gracefully and silently. Afraid of being caught. A silver dagger places in between her teeth, ready to kill.

  A scream could be heard from the kitchen and this only added to her terror. The crack of a whip echoed in the marble hall and another scream made her flinch.

 She peeked into the room, and almost vomited. Her mother's shirt was stained with blood,a look of horror graves her beautiful features. Deep cuts ran across Mrs. Madison's chest and even one grazing her cheek. That sight alone left tears in her eyes. But she couldn't start crying now.  

 The man holding the whip towered over her mother, his yellow eyes and blemished, ugly skin making her blood run cold. His eyes lusted with power and dominice over his wife, he loved watching her struggle. The sadistic bastard displayed the widest, cruelest, most evil smile a human could posses. 

 Elliot was ashamed of calling this man, no monster, her father.

 Tonight, after ten years of abuse and torture. She'd finally get away. 

  Elliot scurried into the kitchen. Her knife safely tucked under her shirt. She lowered her eyes in submission and only raised them when she made her way to the sink. She started the dishes, washing and drying until she heard a nasty voice linger above her.

"What are you going, bitch." It sounded as if he had a bad cold or perhaps even the flu. Elliot slightly winced but eased remembering the knife tucked away. 

"Washing the dishes, sir?" Her voice was shook but she tried her best to make herself appear confident enough to make him mad. 

  A sharp pain lashed her shoulder with a crack. Elliot let out a muffled cry, knees giving out, she sunk to the floor. The tap was left running as a few more cracks sounded and the floor ran red with blood.   

Her father pulled her hair back, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were livid with rage. "Don't get cocky, slut!" He seethed. Now was her chance. It was now or never. 

 Elliots hand flew to her knife, undetected. She slowly took it out, reaching behind her. Her father was going to town on her ears, spitting vile words and curses at her. His taunting made her ever s o more hungry to leave. 

 She looked him in the eye, a devious smirk played on her lips as she took out her knife and aimed for his stomach. She missed, and instead the blade dug itself into his thigh. The man yelped in pain and was sent tumbling to the ground. 

 With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she jumped up and tried to run. A hadn't came out and grabbed her ankle causing her to crash onto the floor once more. The knife in her hand was dropped and the man tried to grab it. 

Everything seemed to get quieter and stiller as Elliot lunged for the knife before her father. Finally, they started to wrestle over it, fighting and each trying their damn hardest to get it. But then with the last bit of strength she could muster, Elliot sent the knife into the mans throat. 

All went silent as his head met the floor. Blood squirted onto the floor, the sink overflowed, and her mother, her poor mother sobbed over the mans dead body. Elliot didn't know wether of relic or grievances but she honestly didn't care. 

 She didn't feel an ounce of guilt, only relief. But relief didn't last long as blue and red lights surrounded the windows, suddenly it hit her. Everything hit her like a fright train. And as the police stormed into the shitty house little Elliot sobbed and screamed, throwing almost a tantrum like a child.  Her father may have been dead but the pain forever stayed, making a home inside this little girls mind. 

Hi! I'm SO excited to start writing a story!!! You have no clue how long this took. Like halfway through writing the first couple chapters (which I'll publish in a day or two) I debated jumping off an building. BUT here I am. ALive. Kinda. OKay, thanks for reading!