Tara POV
I was sitting on the couch watching reruns of my favorite vampire TV show when I heard the front door unlock. I knew it wasn’t my mom because she had come home a few hours ago. My back stiffened and I eyed the stairway that was right by the door.
I had two options. Attempt to make a swift getaway and run up the stairs, or stay here and hope that he just walks up those stairs to his room.
I was still debating when I heard the door open and then heavy footsteps entered the house. The door slammed shut and keys fell on the floor. My heart rate picked up and all the blood drained from my face.
I sunk into the couch hoping he wouldn’t see me as I heard his footsteps draw closer and closer. Then they stopped.
“I know you are there Tara,” his voice sent chills all the way down my spine. “You can’t hide from your Papa.”
Tim Landon, my step-father, was not an easy man to deal with. He was abusive and explosive, a lethal combination. It was terrible. His favorite game was to use me as a punching bag, leaving me to receive every hit and kick.
I often wondered what I did to deserve a father like him. You would think that my mother, Kate, would do something but she was blinded by love. She was a sweet woman but her only flaw was that she fell in love with the devil himself.
I never understood how someone so sweet and caring could have found love in a viper like Tim.
For 15 years I had to live under the same roof as this monster, and for ten of those fifteen years, I had been abused both mentally and physically. The beatings had lessened over time because social services had come by three years ago when a teacher had reported my parents. I was fearful of losing my mom so I lied and said that everything was fine.
It wasn’t always a nightmare per se. It started out okay. He was a good dad for the most part. He was attentive and loving. But when I turned 10, it all changed. He turned into this monster I didn’t even recognize. He wasn’t fully abusive at first. It started light with him pushing me and then gradually he moved up to full-blown out punches.
“Tara,” he said in a sing song voice. My stomach churned. “Come out.”
Whatever he was on, I didn’t want to wait around to find out. Tim was volatile on the best days but if he had gone drinking then he was worse than the devil himself.
“I’ve had a sad day Tara,” his voice drew closer and my heart thundered in my chest. “Won’t you come and help your old man feel better?”
I wanted to hurl when I heard his voice. I hated when he referred to himself as ‘Papa.’ And he had slowly started using these innuendos that made my skin crawl. Tim Landon was the only father figure I had but he was no father of mine.
Fathers were meant to love their kids, not beat them to a pulp because they smiled at you wrong.
His footsteps drew closer and I decided to stand up. It was best to face the predator rather than have your back turned. Tim was by far taller than me but I wasn’t a little girl anymore.
I could fight back if I really wanted to but the problem was, I was scared. My palms were sweating and I could hear the blood gushing near my earlobes. It only ever happened when Tim was around. I could never explain why but it was like my body knew that he was close by and it would send me a warning signal. Other times it was fast enough but not tonight. Tonight I had let my guard down.
“You,” he pointed a finger at me, barely able to stand up straight, “you are like a slow effective poison. Do you know that? It’s not fair that good people like Emery die and scum like you get to live.”
Oh no. He was drunk. I could smell the pungent odor of the cheap liquor he had bought from where I stood. This was not good and I was sure that in a matter of seconds he was going to become explosive.
“I was just leaving,” I mumbled as I tried to make a quick getaway to the stairs but he caught me by the arm squeezing a little too tightly. I hissed in pain but he didn’t care, he even held on tighter.
He never cared.
“Where are you going?” He pushed me until my back hit the wall. He brought his other hand over my throat. “Why did my little girl have to die and you get to live? Every day I look at you it makes me sick. You ungrateful little wench.”
He brought his other hand over my throat. He was cutting off the airflow to my lungs as I struggled against him. I tried to smack his arms away but my strength was fading. I kicked and tried to scream but he had me silenced.
“You are going to die today,” he hissed, bringing his face inches from mine. “But not before I make sure you suffer.”
The light was fading from my eyes as my vision began to blur. When I woke up this morning, I never expected that I would die.
He removed one hand from my throat and then thrust his fist right into my stomach. Whatever air remained in me left my body.
“You die today little one,” he said before he wound his fist back again ready to make another attack.
“Tim! What are you doing?!” My mother ran down the stairs and tried to pull him off of me. “Have you gone mad?! This is our daughter! Let her go or I will call the cops.”
Tim growled once before he dropped me and I fell to the ground. He then turned to face my mother. He pushed her and she stumbled a few steps back. He then turned to me and let out this sound that sounded like a cross between a growl and a hiss.
I tried to get up and make a run for it but he grabbed onto my hair, nearly pulling it out. The pain from the roots was immediate and I knew that a headache was soon to follow.
I heard an animalistic growl come from above me before the tension in my hair left and Tim dropped beside me on the ground. He was unconscious but he was still breathing.
I scurried to my feet and looked to my mother who was huffing above her husband with glowing yellow eyes.
“Mom?” I asked wearily. I took a step away from her, unsure of what was happening.
Her head snapped in my direction and her eyes fazed between yellow and their normal hazel. She blinked a few times and her normal eye color returned to her and she took a step toward me.
I took a step backward.
“Don’t be scared,” she held her hands out as a way of showing me that there was no danger. But I knew what I saw, her eyes were not normal.
“I am scared. What the hell is wrong with your eyes? Why were they glowing like that?”
“I will tell you everything you want to know but first I need you to help me move his body.”
It was only then that I remembered there was an unconscious Tim only two meters away from me. I looked at him lying there and a part of me had hoped that he had stopped breathing.
I was not a person who would ever wish death upon anyone apart from Tim Landon. He was not a kind man. He was worse than the devil. There was a special and firey place reserved for people just like Tim.
“Carry him where? I’m not doing anything until you tell me what the hell is going on here, Mom! Why were your eyes glowing like that and how did you even manage to knock him out with just your fist? Tim is twice your size.”
She looked around the room nervously before she looked to the ceiling and mumbled something inaudible to my ears.
“What I’m about to tell you may seem unbelievable, but my words are as true as the sun is hot.”
I waited for her to continue.
“The reason my eyes were glowing, Tara, was because I am a werewolf. Just like how you are one too."