Hey guys, no time no see! I'm really sorry for my long hiatus; life has been hectic! Anyway, I decided I'd like to share this new story and I hope you guys like it :)
Without further ado, here we go! ;)
My eardrums felt as though they'd been submerged underwater; I could feel the hot, thick crimson red blood trickle down my jaw and onto the bruised skin of my neck. The pain was nearly unbearable, causing dark splotches to dance in front of my vision. The only thing keeping me from falling into oblivion was the feeling of the cold hardwood floor boards underneath my chapped fingertips.
Despite growing used to the sensation of constant pain, I still found myself howling with agony when my drunkard husband felt like I deserved a "good beating," as he so tauntingly called it. I clutched the side of my face, squeezing my eyes shut and desperately wishing the nightmare would cease to exist.
"Look me in the eye, whore," my husband Hans slurred, his breath reeking of stale whiskey.
Trembling and fearing for my life, I hesitantly glanced up. The green eyes that I used to love all those years ago now were filled with blind hatred and consuming power. His thick red hair was plastered to his forehead, sweat droplets forming on his skin. His once beige tunic was now a repulsive shade of yellow; I could hardly stand the putrid smell emanating off him. His next words sent a foreboding chill down my spine.
"Where is he?"
"What?" I whispered, my voice dry and scratchy from misuse. I felt my heart skip a beat and intense fear wash over me.
"Don't play dumb. Give him up."
At that moment, I spotted him. My six year old son George, standing in the hallway outside the bedroom where I lay, his cyan blue eyes petrified. His round, innocent face was smudged with dirt from weeks of lack of hygiene; we'd barely been able to scrape by due to Hans' reckless habits of spending money on drinking and desperate prostitutes.
Without volition and my heart lodged in my throat, I screamed, "RUN!"
What happened next was nearly lost to me as I began to lose consciousness, my vision blurring and distorting the horrific scene before me. I could only watch as George began to run, reaching the door and flinging it aside before Hans violently grabbed him, his brute strength quickly overpowering our son. The last thing I heard before the world became a black void was the sound of my son's piercing screams and the urgent shouts of people outside.
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