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"ms y/n..."
i don't hear him calling me. in fact, i don't hear anything else apart from the slow pace of my own heartbeat. the rocking chair that i'm sitting on doesn't even move, yet i feel dizzy. so dizzy. the world is spinning around me.
i don't feel the soft breeze melting against my skin nor the strands of hair tickling my damp cheeks. the sky appears hazy, old tears finding residence in my eyes. i look down and my hands are pale. paler than...
it doesn't matter. nothing truly matters anymore.
"ms y/n?" i hear him repeat.
i know his voice more than better. that night...it was booming that night. when he took me away from him and i didn't even know. it echoed through my wide room. it still lingers in my ears at most of my sleepless nights. yet the artificial softness in his voice right now, makes me clutch my jaw stronger and dig my nails deeper into my skin.
i don't answer. i never will.
i know that he's either rolling his eyes in pure anger or turning his hands into two trembling fists. i've seen him doing both before from his reflection in the mirror.
"your father is here. he wants to see you."
wants...it used to be asks.
either way it doesn't make any diffirence. i know that in a matter of seconds i'll hear his heavy footsteps. i'll hear the derogatory tone in his voice, fear his piercing look on me and feel the pure judgmental attitude hanging in the air as usual.
my hands sweat like it's the first time. i grit my teeth harder, but they keep chattering. i turn my quivering hands into fists, yet i feel no blood flowing down like a coursing river. i feel powerless. small. a nothing...
"i expected you to be here."
my heart stops. i don't breath. i don't think. my lips turn into a thin line and i stay silent.
"why aren't you downstairs?"
i feel him getting closer. i can hear every slow breath of his, every tone in his calm, yet horrifying, voice. and i know that i can't escape his questions. i'm entirely imprisoned.
