winded ☞︎ jj maybank

the lucky compass ; (2/2)

THE three, JJ, Pope, and Anastasia all sat in the hippie van that belonged to the five Pogue's, mainly John B, driving away from the Redfield Lighthouse. Away from the cops, and their two friends. Kiara and John B.

"Should we go back? And you know, get them?" Anastasia asked, concerned. "No. It's too late." JJ said, looking back from the rear view mirror. He sat in the passenger seat, Pope driving. Anastasia was plopped in the back, her bucket hat in her lap.

"You're the driver." Anastasia scoffed, shaking her head.

ANASTASIA stood, glaring at her uncle. If only looks could kill. He'd be long dead by now. "Get off of me, right now." She spat in his face.

He wiped the spit off his face, drawing his hand back hard against her own. She yelped, her hand flying to her cheek, tears threatening to spill. "You little shit! Always causin' me and ya' momma problems! I don't know how your step daddy even deals with ya' slutty ass!" Her uncle slurred his words, grabbing her by her throat.

Her breath hitched, tears falling. "Aw, nothin' else to say, you bitch?" He asked, using his other hand, he punched her square in the nose.

Her head flew back, blood streaming from her right nostril. She coughed, spurring up blood as he continued his assault with his words, his grip tightening against her throat. She could hardly breathe. "Can't.. I can't.. breathe.." She heaved, coughing.

He let go of her, while she stumbled over her feet,"You're lucky your momma loves ya'. No one else does. Worthless piece of shit." He said, walking away from the helpless girl in front of him.

And everything went black, as her head hit the wooden floors.

ANASTASIA sat by her bed, staring into her mirror. She'd wiped up the blood, but that didn't mean she didn't have knot on the side of her head from where she'd passed out and hit her head against the floor.

She had a small bruise by her nose, in between it and her right eye. She bit her lip, cringing. She hated her uncle, even more than she hated her self. She hated herself for not being strong enough, but she hated her uncle more for not being a good uncle to her and making her feel this way in the first place. She was disgusted by him and herself. She thought of herself as pathetic and him as pitiful.

Her mother wouldn't believe her; she chose her brother over her daughter. And it hurt, like a bitch. Karma's a bitch. It'll make it's way back to him, eventually, Anastasia thought, tears swelling by her eye. She wiped them away, shaking her head.

    She got up, going to take a shower. She quickly showered, stepping out into a white, fluffy towel. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, as she walked over to her closet. She pulled out a bikini, a light blue bikini bottom and a baby pink, strapless bikini top.

    She slid on the bikini, throwing on a pair of blue jean shorts and a simple, small white crop top. She left her wavy blonde locks to dry on their own, as she pulled them up into a bun.

    She made her way back into her bedroom form her on-suite bathroom, walking out of her room. She made her way down the modern stair case, the chandelier dangling, light streaming over the spiral stair case.

    "I'll be back in a bit!" She called, talking to no one in particular, just hoping she was loud enough for her mother- or step father- to hear.

    She made her way out to her car, humming quietly to herself. She chuckled, thinking of the conversation she'd earlier had with JJ and Pope. She shook her head,"Those idiots. Hope Kie and John B got out all right.." She frowned, thinking of the two friends they'd abandoned back at the Redfield Lighthouse.