His Iris | ✓

Chapter 2

Present Day

I jolted up from my nightmare. My breathing was unsteady as I tried calming myself down. I wiped off the beads of sweat from my forehead and plopped myself back on the bed.

This has been happening ever since the day my life changed; three years ago. It was still such a vivid memory.

I'm eighteen now and it's my birthday. You would expect me to be happy but it was the complete opposite. Every year on my birthday I would wish to just escape and never come back. It seemed like such a dream that I desperately wished to come true.

I got my ass up from bed and started the horrible day. Every day I would do the same thing. Wipe my dried tears, take a shower, get ready, make breakfast for that horrible monster, and go to school.

It probably doesn't seem that bad but it is for me. Especially with everything that has happened. But by reminding myself that I'm not the only person going through something like this is comforting. But not in a way that I would think that this was okay for anyone to go through.

"Iris!" I heard his loud and demanding voice call out for me as I widened my eyes in fear.

Shit! He's going to kill me!

I ran out of my room and quickly tried to serve him breakfast, jumbling around the few plates.

"What the fuck were you doing you bitch?!" Here it starts, again. I wasn't normally late everyday but sometimes these nights weren't the best.

"S-sorry master," I apologized like every other time. Calling him 'master' made me cringe every time but if it meant I won't face his full wrath then so be it. Enduring such things wasn't news to me. The fact that I called him Dad at some point made me bug out.

I dared not to look into his eyes. I could feel the hard glare he was giving me. At this point if a laser beam were to cut through my head I wouldn't be surprised.

"Get me my damn coffee!" He demanded. I'm glad he let the whole being late thing slide. It doesn't often go like that though.

"Yes master." Jeez, demanding much?

As I was walking to give him his warm coffee, I slipped on the rug underneath the dining table. How fucking convenient. I knew I never liked this damn rug. I don't know why he forced me to put it there. And of course now I was going to face the backlash, and not his poor rug.

It was almost as if it was in slow motion as the coffee spilt all over his jeans. I noticed it soak into the fabric and winced at the burn he must have felt from it seeping onto his skin. He will surely murder me at this point. But he deserved the burn.

"Ahh! You bitch!" He stood up and started pacing around me. I would be lying if this wasn't slightly funny.

"Oh my go- I'm so sorry master!" I faked my apology but tried to be as convincing as possible.

He glared at me and gripped my hair tightly as I winced in pain. He threw me to the ground and yelled, "Stand up!"

I stood up with my wobbly legs and was met with his fist. Black dots clouded my vision slightly before it went back to normal. My eyes watered at the impact of his fist connecting with my nose.

He punched me on my nose causing it to bleed. It was definitely going to leave a bruise. I groaned as I held it in pain. I'm glad it wasn't broken. At least, I don't think it's broken.

Then he slapped me like I was nothing.

"Clean this shit up! You're in for it once I come back!"