Authors note: This is the first chapter, and the reason this story is rated M. This will be the only situation even close to this in this story, unless she has flashbacks later on. I have yet to decide on that. So please, no reveiws saying how this is discusting and how you don't want to read it. You have been warned. Also, I may spell words wrong frequently. The program I use to type does no have spell check. I do re-read chapters before I post them, but I don't always catch my mistakes. For instance, the word "the" may be spelled "thw" on accident. I apologize ahead of time, thank you. Please reveiw and tell me if you guys want more! The guardians will be coming later on in the next chapter.
Chapter 1/Prologue
I'm sitting in my bedroom, well, basement, of my home. I wouldn't call it a home though, just the place I half live. I stayed in that basement, I never even got to see the night of day. I'm laying in the corner, trying to hide in the shadows. The basement was black, no light to be seen. That's one thing I was never afraid of, the dark. In my youth I was completely engulfed in the dark, I lived in it. How can you fear something you don't want to leave?
I hear the door at the stop of the old wooden stairs swing open. I held my breath, terrified of what would happen next. I hear each board creek with every step the man took. A tear slid down my cheek now, I couldn't breathe. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I had learned years before screaming was pointless, no one would hear me. The man was now down the stairs, walking across the cold pavement closer to where I lay. Each step echoed in my head like a chime of defeat.
"Know what day it is?" I didn't answer, but he knew I knew. I could sense the evil grin that spread across his face. "It's your 18th birthday, Scarlett. You know what that means? That means you get a special present today."
I felt like a little child trying to hide from the Boogeyman. No, no. This man was much worse. He was pure evil, there was no remorse in his soul. He didn't want me dead. No, he wanted me to suffer. To be torchered with the reality that no one would ever love me, that he would never allow that to happen.
"My wife died 18 years ago on this very day because of the little vermin you are. You're evil, a pest, and you need to be dealt with. I've had enough of you." He grabbed my arm, lifted me up, then threw me back down. He lifted me up once more, holding me by my shoulders. He leaned in, I could feel his hot breath on my ear. He stunk of the whiskey he had been drinking. "Now take your dress off."
I obeyed. I used to cry and fuss when he demanded these things from me, but I learned it's easier to just go along with whatever he says.
"Hurry up, you don't want me to do it myself do you?!" I shake my head quickly, even knowing he couldn't see me. It was off of me, just like that. Laying on the ground in a crumbled up dirty mess just like me. He grabbed my upper arms and shoved me against the wall.
"You see, if I had my wife I wouldn't have to you. This is all your fault, you understand that, don't you?"
After I nodded, he began with my punishment. I felt nothing. I hadn't felt anything in years. I was a body of emptiness. I would give anything to feel something. Something other than nothing.
It went on for hours. Him telling me how it was my fault, that I should have died instead of her. Once he was finished with my body, he threw me back onto the ground. I didn't try to get up, I didn't try to move. I heard him walk to the other wall not that far away. He picked something up, and then there was a splashing around. A foreign smell filled my nose. It was stinging scent. I tried looking up, confused. I could see nothing. He was splashing a liquid all over the floor.
He threw the empty container in my direction, ironically hitting me in the face. I heard him climb half way up the stairs before he stopped. He paused, then spoke.
"Go back to hell where you belong, you demon."
He lit a match, then threw it to the floor.
Flames surrounded me. Pain, sweet pain. It hurt, I began to scream and cry. The worst part of it, is the tears and screaming weren't completely from the pain.
They were from happiness. Happiness that soon I would finally be free.