So I was just thinking about this story, and thought it would be an interesting topic. I do not know how well this well turn out. This is the prologue so if you would be interested in reading more please let me know.
Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush.
"Joanna!" The yell was heard over the loud rumble of thunder outside. A woman was running through a dark lit house, the only light from the occasional flash of lightning through the windows. She moved protectively, but difficultly, glancing back every few steps. "Joanna get your fucking ass back here!" He screamed running after her.
The next time she looked back she screamed. The man grabbed her and spun her around towards him. He held a death grip on her arm as she struggled to get away from him. Lightning flashed through the house and she stiffened noticing the menacing look he had on his face and the knife he wielded.
"Please..." her voice spoke softly and shook violently, terrified. He just viciously smiled down at her, gripping her arm tighter. She let out a gasp and a squeak. "But the child..." She tried to reason with the mad man. His face only grew darker.
"I don't want that...thing." He sneered the word like it was bitter on his tongue as he brought the knife to the pregnant woman's stomach. "As soon as it gets out, I'll see to it, that it, as well, dies." She cried and struggled harder. His bone chilling laugh sounded menacing as thunder shook the house.
He let go of her arm and pushed her lightly, but hard enough for her to lose her balance and not able to get it up as she tumbled for what seemed like forever. When she hit the ground she cried out, feeling the warmth of the blood run along side her. She lied there barely holding consciousness as he walked down the stairs around the pool of blood and out the door. With her last bit of consciousness, she made a call.
A doctor walked into the woman's hospital room. He carried a clip board in one hand and was adjusting his glassed with the other. His blonde hair looked untamable, short and messy, his bright green eyes shown through his thick black rimmed glasses.
"Ah, Mrs. Mitchell," he started, but the poor woman cut him off.
"Joanna, please. We've known each other since birth," she paused. "Dr. Knight." She mocked him, trying to find something funny in the predicament. He smiled at her, then brought the paper work up and examined it before speaking.
"Everything is going to be fine, Mrs. Mitchell." He glanced at her, he liked being professional at his job. The woman just rolled her eyes and rubbed her stomach, lovingly.
She had only a few weeks before her due date, but she knew her son wanted to come earlier, mother's instinct. Thinking about her baby's birth brought tears to her eyes. His threat ringing in her ears.
Her husband wasn't always abusive. He used to be sweet, and romantic. They met in a coffee shop, about ten years ago. Love at first sight is how they explained it. He always greeted her with flowers and chocolates. He proposed on a beach in Maui, on their vacation. They were both incredibly happy. Then her first child was born. She was the joy of his life, his little Princess. Presley was five when she died. Her and her mom were having a girls day, doing everything a mother and her five year old would. When they finished getting their ice cream and got into the car, a drunk driver hit the car where Presley sat, killing her instantly. Her husband was destroyed. Blaming his wife for his daughters death. That's when the violence started. Then she got pregnant again, this child. She was ecstatic hoping her husband would be happy again, but she was wrong. He grew furious, he didn't want a replacement, he wanted his Princess back.
This doctor was the only one to keep her sane. Their parents were best friends and the two were like family. They had dinner at each other's houses each Sunday, the Mitchell's and the Knight's, but that was before Presley. After the beatings, her husband would leave to go to a bar and she would call her faux brother and he'd help her through treating her wounds. He agreed, after an impossible amount of begging to never tell what happened because she thought her husband was going to change, she thought he loved her.
She looked at her doctor, her best friend, her brother, with pleading eyes. Silently begging him with her mind to do this one thing for her. He sighed and took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and sat at the edge of her bed.
"Joanna..." He stressed out, looking at her deeply and questioningly.
"Donald...please." And in that moment, she knew he was going to agree.
There guys, this is the prologue. Does it seem good? Sorry it was a little short, trying to just get the ball rolling, besides the prologue is normally short, right?
