Six Years Ago...
I landed roughly on the ground on my arms and knees, cursing loudly. I dusted myself off and cursed again at the sight of blood on my knees and elbows, remembering I was scheduled to attend a charity event the day after tomorrow. Sighing, I picked up my shoes from the ground and tried to keep my inhibitions as I stalked towards the backdoor of the kitchen.
I reached a hand through the window that I had left unlocked when I snuck out last night, grunting as I tried to reach for the security pad and blindly putting in the code. I pulled my arm back and slowly pushed the door open, squinting my eyes to try and make out the kitchen in the darkness as I entered quietly. I reached in front of me to find my way along, accidentally bumping into a rack of pans, the steel producing a loud clamor as they fell on the floor.
"Noisy motherfuckers," I muttered, kicking a pan out of my way.
I carefully treaded through the room and found the swinging doors that led out into the great hall when suddenly the chandelier of all things lit up.
"Who's there?" a deep voice called.
I froze, dropping my shoes on the floor. His footsteps echoed along the marble floor and I quickly felt more sober than I was before I snuck out of the house at the knowledge of who he was.
"You fucking brat," I heard him spit out and I immediately dropped my head as he marched towards me. "Where the did you whore yourself out now?!" he roared and as if it were possible, I froze even more, standing in the middle of the hall in my skimpy barely even there little black dress.
I didn't see it coming and only realized I'd been struck as my head whipped to the side. My reflexes didn't have time to react and I fell on the floor but I didn't make any sound, not wanting to excite him.
"Look at me," he hissed, his voice so full of venom that it pricked against my skin.
I sucked in a lungful of breath and willed myself to raise my head, holding back any reaction as I was faced with the barrel of his revolver. He scoffed, spitting on me in distaste but I didn't even blink an eye as it landed on my cheek.
"You disgust me, you pathetic little whore."
"If I'm a whore, then what do you call your whores?"
I didn't know why I fucking said that but I didn't manage to think before letting those words out of my mouth. He fumed but I merely tilted my head, eyeing the gun he was still pointing at me. I managed to crack a smile, propping my elbows as I leaned back, gazing up at him lazily.
"Go ahead. Shoot me. Kill me already, you know you want to," I taunted, my hand travelling down south and hitching up the hem of my dress, revealing the still healing bruises on my thigh from the recent beating he'd given me. "I know you do."
"You fucking-"
"Stop talking and do it!" Out of sheer high and drunkenness, I grabbed the barrel of his gun, pressing it firmly against my forehead. "Do it! Kill me! End this pathetic life already! I don't fucking care! Do it! Do it!"
"Shut up! Shut up!" he screamed, taking a fistful of my hair and answering my pleadings by beating my face with the pistol of his gun.
There was a loud bang as he pulled the trigger, a gasp escaping me as the sound of the gunshot echoed. I pissed myself. I was sure of it as something warm trailed down between my thighs and even though I barely had a grip of my senses, I knew I was shaking like a sodden puppy.
I waited for something. Pain. Blood. Death. But nothing. As the shock wavered, I met his eyes.
"Missed." I grinned. "I hope you have more bullets. You're gonna need it."
He roared, throwing the gun aside as he gripped my hair with a firm hand and hit me repeatedly. "You fucking bitch! You're just like her!" he snarled, dragging me by the hair across the floor and flinging me against the wall. "You're just like her!" he repeated, adding a swift kick to his words.
Blood dribbled down my chin as I laughed. "Is that all you've got, you sick old man?! You hit like a little bitch!" I screeched as I tried to push myself up but before I could stand, he kicked me hard on the gut, the pain of the blow forcing me back down. "Harder, you piece of shit! Harder!"
"You're a stupid fucking whore! I'm going to fucking kill you!" he snarled, sounding like the monster that he was.
"STOP TALKING AND DO IT! KILL ME!" I screamed back like the stupid whore that I was.
He roared, pure unadulterated animosity radiating from him as he slapped, hit, kicked, and threw me against the walls like a rag doll. The pain was trying to take away my consciousness and the blood dripping from my brows tampered with my sight but I held on. His loud growls deafened me as each sound he made echoed, filling every inch of the great hall and I was sure everyone under this roof could hear us, they just did not fucking care.
Why should they?
"Get up! Get up, you fucking whore!" he ordered angrily, his hand wringing my neck as he pulled me up, pressing me against the wall.
His fingers circled around my neck easily, squeezing the air out of me. "What? Is that it?" I laughed maniacally as I met his eyes through the blood dripping over my lids, the fury in his almost making him look like a cold-blooded monster, which he probably was. "I'm not dead yet, sweetheart. Keep going." I spat, literally, my saliva hitting him by the corner of his eye and by God, that was the most satisfying thing I've ever seen in my pathetic life.
He screamed, baring his teeth as he threw me to the side, my body making contact with the banister. He grabbed my hair, kicking the air out of me as he broke my ribs with his foot. I didn't make a sound. He dragged me up the stairs, nearly ripping my scalp off and throwing me against the walls once more before doing what he did best, beating me senseless while calling me every nasty name one could utter.
My body was surrendering, too much pain was filling me but I welcomed it fiercely, crawling back to my feet every time he stopped and taunting him to keep going, and I would land on the floor, dropping harshly whilst he kicked me until I couldn't stand anymore and I just bared myself against the floor on my arms and knees while he beat me till he was satisfied. I bled at each blow that broke another part of me but I didn't dare move away. I screamed back at him instead every time he called me a whore, a slut, a piece of shit. I cried, telling him to end it already, to fucking kill me already but all he was doing was worsen my suffering.
I caught a glimpse of my brother, from the corner of my eye, seeing him through the small gape through his bedroom door as he stood there, watching me almost as if he couldn't help but watch. As if he couldn't help at all and I didn't want him to. I let him watch. See everything. See how my life had become. See what he had taken part in. See the result of his abandonment. He caught me looking and he opened his mouth as if to say something but no sound came out. Still too much of a fucking coward to do anything. I hated him for that.
I gifted him a grin, the rich tang of blood so rich in my mouth and he looked at me in horror, as if my smile terrified him. I almost laughed.
I raised my head, turning my attention to the man going crazy as he beat me with his belt. "You like that huh?! Come on, Daddy! Beat your dirty little fucking whore some more!"
He answered with an animalistic growl and a swift hit of his belt, the buckle imprinting itself against my flesh firmly and blood gushed out of the wound. I wanted him to bleed me fucking dry.
"HARDER!" I screamed in a laugh and he obliged mercilessly. "Kill me!" I screeched, his belt hitting the side of my face, the buckle digging into my cheek and I welcomed the pain as I bled. "Kill me! Kill me!"
I cried out those two words until I lost my breath, until I couldn't bear the pain anymore as I collapsed, growing numb because it was just too much and yet, I did not fucking die.
"Kill me. Please," I whispered before letting the pain take my consciousness away.