The soft pitter patter of rain filled my dark bedroom. The warm feel of blood dripped down my face. Cold hatred filled my heart and tears stung at my eyes. Feet stomped down the hall and to my room. I watched the barricaded door.
"SINTHIA! OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!" my father's rough, but slurred words penetrated the door.
He was drunk again. It was a tradition, twice a week he would drink until he couldn't think straight and beat on some one. It had gotten much worse since my mother died, leaving me to take the beatings.
The wardrobe wobbled as his heavy fist pounded against the door. He had drunken too much tonight, nothing would stop him from coming after me. I stood. The walls spun and I nearly toppled to the ground. Pain shot through my head, forcing a few tears from my eyes.
I groped my head were my father had hit me. A large bump spanned across left half of my forehead to about half way across the side of my skull. Small shards of wood pricked my finger as I probed the wound that ran along the bump.
The wardrobe's doors swung wide as my father pounded against the door again, using his shoulder most likely. The mirror that hung on the inside reflected my grotesque image. My usually silky auburn hair was tangled and bloody. The entire left side of my face was covered in blood except for were the tears had fallen. Blood stained my powder blue dress.
The wardrobe tipped slightly but settled back in its place. It wouldn't be long before he actually got in.
I moved to the window, throwing it open. The cool night's air pushed against my warm skin, and rain began to wash away some of the blood.
A loud crash filled the room. The wardrobe was on the floor and a few shards of glass glinted in the dim street lights. My father's face poked through a crack in the doors opening. It was twisted into a grimace, hatred filling his eyes. He pushed against the heavy wardrobe. Glass screeched under the pressure.
Fear rooted me to the floor. The fear was unreasonable, but there nonetheless. My escape was just a few inches away and I had plenty of time to reach it and be long gone before he could follow after me.
An arm poked through the door, then a leg. He was almost in. Something cold touched my hand, making me jump. A gentle face stared at me though the window.
The face was strangely beautiful. His eyes glinted silver and his hair was a deep gold. His facial structure was sharp yet soft at the same time.
"You must hurry," he whispered.
His long pale fingers wrapped around my hand and he pulled me through the window.
