Last Hope

Chapter 1

Copyright ©2020 Katy Coombs
All rights reserved

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, plots, places are the product of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to an actual person, living or dead, actual event or business establishments are entirely coincidental. The author does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

ISBN: 9798677297380
Imprint: Independently published; KDP Publishing

The cover was made with Canva: Designed by Katy Coombs

Now available on Amazon in Kindle and. Paperback 📱📖

Link: Last Hope Vol. 1 By Katy Coombs
https://www.amazon.com/Last-Hope-Vol-Katy-Coombs-ebook/dp/B08JPMJDNY

Warning this is for 18+, and over, there is curing, abuse and violence.

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                         Chapter 1

He’s coming back; my heart is beating against my chest wildly. My palms are sweating, and my stomach is rolling. I’m so afraid I quickly grab for my bunny and hide in the closet in the room at my foster home. I slide the closet doors closed, tucking myself inside, my knees pressing into my chest tightly as I tremble in fear. I rest my head on my dirty knees from days without a shower or bath.

I hear him barge in my room; I close my eyes tightly and wish that I was somewhere else. Suddenly the closet doors flew open, and I was dragged out; I scream and shout at the top of my lungs, which only makes Mark angrier in his drunken rage. He smacks me hard across the face; his knuckles hit my cheekbone, causing instant pain.
It is the same thing almost every day, nightmare after nightmare living in hell where I will never be free from.

I know by the stench smell of his stank breath, from the moment he enters my room that he has been drinking. The trace of cheap beer lingers in the air as it was such a common occurrence I have just gotten used to the smell. I have been here for two years, and this was one of the worst places.

Mark is physically abusive with me and touches me and makes me do things I hate to do. He will whip me with a belt or any object he chooses until I submit it to his sadistic and twisted ways. He has become obsessed with me, and he knows I try to hide; he is a sick sadistic monster. His rage will lead him to do what he always did, and this is just what he did.

    I feel as if my world was never going to get brighter. It is so dark I see no sign of light in my dark abyss, everyday living in fear and pain. I want to go home, but I have no home; this is not a home, this is a torturer chamber for these people to get money and me to be beaten black and blue with scars so deep I will never be the same again. This will be the beginning of my end.
I want a home where they treat me friendly and don’t hurt me. But I would need a miracle and someone to piece me back together after this torturer. Somebody help me. I want to cry out and call out for someone to save me, but instead, all I hear is my cries that just bounce off the wall with no reply. I am all alone with no escape.

If this
was a fairy-tale, my Knight or King would coin the rightght about now and save me from this villain. But this was no fairy t; thishis was a horror movie on repeat.

He threw me on the stiff thin, dirty, stained uncomfortable mattress. He climbs on the bed; I was shaking, I tried to kick him with all my might, but he grabs me and whips me with the belt. Slicing at my clothes and into my flesh from every flick of his wrist, as the leather slices through my skin. The mixture or metallic scent from my blood and genuine leather fills my room, as my back, sides and front is left with open stinging wounds from this monster. Leaving me to bleed and feel mutilated, guilty, ashamed, powerless, disgusted—defeated.