My mother was at it again; her fists pummeling my head and back incessantly. There were already several open cuts along my back and side from her wedding ring scraping at my skin; some of them were older and a few were possibly infected. This was obviously not the first time; I was used to the pain, the words, and the disappointment. Yes, disappointment; in my father who would just stand there and watch as she persisted in her 'punishment'. What I kept getting punished for, I wasn't sure.
It was plucking at my strings, all of it; my weak father, the rhythmic pounding of my mother's fists, her words, and my own self loathing.
When her fist connected with my jaw, she suddenly stopped. I knew why instantly; that would leave a bruise, a visible bruise. She always hit me where either my hair or my clothes would cover the evidence. Now people would ask questions and she didn't like that possibility. This proved that she was escalating.
"Get up you wretched creature. Ice your face and nothing else! Now GET OUT!" she screamed with malice.
I scurried from the room as quickly as possible; the muscles in my back and sides protesting the pull of my movements. As I hurried up the stairs, I passed my father standing at the base, watching as usual. He shifted, as if to reach for me, but I darted passed his rising hand.
I made my way to the kitchen, gathered a washcloth full of ice, and then made my way to the attic. I sank onto my frameless bed between the rafters, the 'head' of which was situated below one of the small, circular windows that face the back lawn. I placed the ice against my face and began to plot. I knew my mother's routines inside and out. It was currently around 7pm; in two more hours she would be inebriated and about 30 minutes after that she would pass out, sprawled across the couch.
This was it, I couldn't take much more. If she was escalating, then it wouldn't be much longer before she beat me beyond repair. I had to leave now or I would never survive. The only problem was my father; I would figure out how to live on my own once I got away.
Surprisingly, luck was on my side. My father went to bed around 7:30 and my mother blacked out an hour earlier than usual. I snuck down the stairs, listening closely to my mother's breathing for any signs of stirring, and slipped out the back door. Now I was at a loss; I had nowhere to go. My first priority was to move as far away from my mother and the cursed house as possible.
I found myself running toward the fields beyond my family's land. I had been staring out the little window over my bed for years and the field was within my window's frame.
Even that slight sprint wore me out and I collapsed among the tall, swaying grasses and scented flowers; their perfumed smells hung heavily in the warm night air. I closed my eyes against the pounding in my head, also trying to block the pain flowing through my body out.
I was so wrapped up in ignoring my pain and concentrating on the sounds of nature that I missed the footsteps approaching me. Suddenly I felt a presence over me and a hand ran through my red hair. I rolled to the side, away from the figure, the pain all over my body becoming nothing compared to my fear.
"Please, do not run. I swear I mean you neither harm nor ill will. I did not mean to startle you." The cloaked figure before me insisted. A light emitted from behind him, distracting me, bobbing about like it was dangling from a string. The light bobbed to his left and a small figure appeared over his shoulder.
"What is that?" I said with wide eyes, the seconds leading up to this all but forgotten because of the small, blue, winged figure now hovering in the air to the stranger's left.
"This is a he and his name is Lux; he is a rare, winged pixie" the stranger stated like it was common knowledge.
"Of course, how lovely," I stated, then under my breath, "I have finally lost my mind. I knew it would happen eventually with all of the beatings and head trauma."
"Well you are talking to yourself so maybe you have lost your mind a bit, but we are both quite real" the stranger interjected amongst my inner musings.
All I could do was sink to the ground for I had lost all feeling in my legs. How could this be possible?