“Scarlett!” my father’s voice yelled from his room.
My heart sank. Of course I couldn’t get a little bit of freedom from him. I never did.
With my head down, I made my way to his room, one foot in front of the other. Each step I took felt like my feet were cinder blocks. Heavy. Dead weight.
“Today!”
Timidly, I rounded the corner to his room, keeping my gaze down on the floor.
“Lisa begged me to let you go out tonight,” he started. I glanced up, seeing him slowly unbutton his shirt. “But that just won’t do. Tonight, least of all. Too many people. She even asked to let you go to her house. As if.” The last two words were spoken in a hiss.
I stood frozen, waiting for whatever he threw my way. I knew he was gearing up to do something that would test my will. He loved games lately.
“Now, if your mother would have stuck around, then maybe I’d have let you go. But that worthless piece of shit couldn’t stand you. You should be happy that I saved you from her. Did you know, she never wanted children? She loathed them. Hated the crying and everything else that a kid like you comes with. Maybe I should have let her take you to the lake across the state and drown you.”
He paused, scrutinizing me. I felt his eyes look through me, as if I were nothing more than a piece of litter on the ground.
“Go run a bath. I have a lesson to teach you.”
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, quickly turning and doing what he said.
I didn’t question him. I’d learned to never think of doing so. Asking him why wasn’t ever good for me. So, instead, I did what he told me to do. I drew a bath, even though he never took one himself and always forbade me from doing so. I made the water to what I hoped was his temperature.
I wasn’t sure what to do next. Was I to stand here, waiting for it to fill? Or was I to go back to my father and see what he wanted next? God. I hoped I didn’t have to wash him from head to toe. The idea of doing that made me gag.
“I want you in it,” he said, sneaking up behind me and causing me to yelp.
“Uh…” Why?
He tilted his head down, looking at me through the tops of his eyelashes, waiting. I couldn’t move. My father couldn’t be serious about this. There was no way. Just what was he thinking?
“Fine, I guess we’ll do it the hard way, then.” He grumbled when I didn’t move. In the next second, he picked me up as if I were a bag of sand and threw me into the bath none too gently. The water splashed all around me as I gasped out. My heart jumped inside my chest.
“Why do you always have to fight me, Scar?”
Why? Because he never told me what he wanted me to do! I wanted to shout the words out, but I bit down on my lip hard enough to draw blood.
The bathtub filled quickly. Much too quickly for what was about to happen to me. My father reached across me, shutting the water off. “Should have made it ice cold. But it’ll do this time.”
Before I could move, or figure out what he was possibly thinking of doing, he pushed me to lie down. Next, my head was forced under the water. My breath paused, my heart pounding so fast I felt it in my toes, and my hands clawed at his arms. My short nails did nothing to deter him, to stop him.
He was going to kill me.
Panic seized me as I fought with everything I had in me.
He was going to kill me, and even though my response was to fight, I gladly looked forward to finally ending all this pain.
Isat up on the couch, gasping for breath. I could still feel my lungs filling with water and a force holding me down. My heart was beating so fast, I feared it would take off on its own.
Tears leaked from my eyes as I held my face in my hands. Would it ever stop? When would the past stay in the past? Hadn’t I suffered enough already? Why? Just…fucking why?
Forcing my breaths to slow, I listened to my beating heart. It took way longer than I wanted, but finally after what felt like hours, I was able to control my actions once more.
Voices in the kitchen piqued my attention. I was so tired of not being able to sleep for longer than a little at a time. I was over all of this crap that I couldn’t control. The memories were beginning to suffocate me, and adding lack of sleep to the mix hadn’t made it any easier.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Sawyer whisper-yelled. “If you dare wake her, I’ll string you up by your balls.”
“Kinky,” someone mumbled, “but you aren’t my type. And I still don’t even know why you’re here.”
