Midnight Murderers

Chapter 1: Hypermnesia

"Stop. You're hurting me."

"Shut your trap and be quiet."

His wildly-grown fingernails were implanting themselves into the soft tissue of my bicep. Shoving me roughly through the house, making sure that I hit every wall, and trip over every possible thing in his way, assuring the most amount of bruises as possible. When I tried to resist he would knee me between my shoulder blades sending shockwaves of pain to claw it's way down my spine, spiking every nerve ending. After I tripped over a broken nightstand and my feet collapsed he grabbed me by my elbow and wrenched me forward, so quickly, that it felt like he ripped my arm out of it's socket. He continued to drag my arm, disregarding my obvious screams of pain, slicing up my arm and knees as he dragged me across the worn out, splintered floor boards.

"Stop bleeding, you're making a mess."

He shook his clenched fist in my face as he had finally turned back to look at me. He bent my arm painfully slowly in the wrong direction and when he heard its satisfying snap returned to dragging me literally by my broken limb to the front door of the property.

"You will have to clean that... never-mind you worthless bitch."

He opened the door and threw me onto the porch. When I failed to stand up he swung his leg back and booted me in the stomach. The metallic taste of blood made its way into my mouth as I started to cough and spit, gargling sounds coming from the back of my throat as I tried to breathe. I looked up to him through teary eyes, not daring to shed my first tear in years as I could see his hideous yellow-stained teeth as he smirked at me. When I went to stand I was booted again only this time with much more force, so much so, that I was air-born. I flew from the veranda into the mud at the front of the house, if you could even call it a house.

"Never come back here to you hear me?"

I shivered as the rain poured down on my face and soaked my hair. It washed the blood away as the breeze picked up causing me to rub up and down one of my arms trying to provide some sort of warmth. I jumped at the sound of thunder claps as I could see lightning in the distance. I let the first tear fall and I look at him, standing there with glee, triumph in his eyes. The mud squelched beneath my bleeding and agitated body.

"But... where am I meant to go. You're meant to look after me. You're supposed to be my father" I screamed at him with so much hatred lacing my voice that his eyes widened slightly.

He shrugged his shoulders and rested his hands in his pockets; "Life doesn't always turn out the way you want it. I got stuck with you after your mother died."

I widened my eyes at his remark and felt a pang in my heart, at his obvious rejection. Even though he never said it, being told that your father never wanted you is really hard and really hurt. It was like sharing DNA and years of memories didn't make up family in his eyes. He rejected me as if I was a trespasser in his home. He didn't want me...

"Leave! I never want to see your pathetic face here again."

"I'm only eight, you can't leave me. Where will I go?" He turned around and stormed back into the house and made sure to lock the door.

"Dad!"

What could I do? Go after him? By going after him I was practically just asking for another beating. It was clear that he didn't want me, I don't ever think he did. He would always frown upon me even when she was alive. She was the only warmth in my life and when she died darkness cast its way over our once happy home. Her death was long and painful... not just for her. Once he saw that she wasn't going to get better he started to drink... a lot. I would sleep in my room and hear smashing bottles and yelling... mostly his. He would bring girls home, even with her under the same roof. I would go into her room and try to cheer her up. She would never show her pain, not in front of me. Even as she was dying, she didn't show anything. One night I was walking down the hallway to say goodnight to her when I heard sounds of someone struggling, I thought nothing of it at the time but as I furthered down the hallway they became louder. I flinched as there was the sound of smashing glass and rattling from behind the door. I inched further and what I saw has been burnt into my mind forever. I saw through a crack in the door that he was strangling her with his bare hands whilst she thrashed underneath his grip. Grasping for his hands and trying to get air to make its way through her lungs. Her eyes grew wide when she saw me and then it stopped. She stopped moving, stopping looking at me and looked through me. The glassy gleam in her eye had dissolved and her chest stopped rising. I gasped as my hands came to my mouth and tears threatened to spill. At the sound of my gasp, my father turned his head and when he spotted me... let's just say that I wish that I had had the same fate as my mother after he was finished with me.

I looked around as the rain started to flood the grounds of the front yard and jumped every time that lightning danced through he sky. I tried to stand. I tried to ignore the pain I felt everywhere. I tried and I failed. I will always fail. I am a failure. I looked down as the rain droplets leaked off of my face and fell to the ground. I looked up to the veranda and saw nothing, no-one. I could hear rustling in the kitchen and I knew that he was waiting for me to leave. I knew that he wasn't going to come back for me. I knew that he truly didn't want me. I clenched my fists and pushed myself up with determination. I was able to stand, long enough for me to grab a hold of a nearby tree trunk. My knees rattled as blood trickled from the open cuts all over my arms and legs. I clutched my ribs and lifted my shirt to see a large circular purple boot-sized bruise start to form on my ribs. I slide my fingers carefully down my side and cried out in pain when I came down to the bottom of my ribcage. I don't know a lot about bones but I'm pretty sure that it's broken. I took one last longing look, inhaling sharply to avoid pain in my burning ribs and walked out of the gate. My arm felt broken, I felt broken and I couldn't do anything to fix it. Hospitals are for people with money and if it wasn't obvious enough we never had any, let alone an eight year old kid that was just kicked out of home. I walked around the streets cradling my wounded arm and my burning ribs. When I couldn't walk anymore and my knees bucked out from under me. I screamed as my broken arm broke my fall, which then caused me to land on my ribs. I curled up as far as I could with the ribs and cried to myself. I still couldn't believe what was happening. I have no-one and nothing. I must have been so exhausted that I didn't realise that my eyes were slowly shutting and my thoughts were slipping away. It was nothing but darkness. Darkness and emptiness. I stirred slightly as I felt my head roll back and the warm touch of hands scoop up my feather-like body. The darkness soon came for me once more as I was overcome with a feeling that I haven't felt in years. I felt safe.