Page 29 of Accepting Fate

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Page 29 of Accepting Fate

I’ve been pouting in bed for the past three hours and thinking about how badly I want to see him tomorrow night.

My phone buzzes and breaks me out of my sulking.

I did my nighttime routine hours ago when I first crawled into bed earlier. I’m exhausted already and know I will pass out any moment. Reaching over I smile when I see it’s a text from Grayson.

Grayson: Hey Angel. I hope you start feeling better soon. If you need anything let me know. Goodnight pretty girl.

I smile as I drift off to sleep thinking about the beautiful blue-eyed man that has encapsulated my entire mind.

I wake up feeling like someone is watching me. My room is dark and eerily quiet. Normally the fan is going but tonight, it’s dead silent. A chill runs up my spine and I look around my room. The only source of light is coming from the faint light of the full moon shining through the window, making it hard to see anything in the darkness.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure move. I whip my head around just in time to see Mike’s glowing green eyes step out of the shadows of my closet.

His dingy yellow stained teeth shine in the moonlight as his mouth forms into a smile that I could only compare to a serial killer cornering his victim. He slowly starts walking towards me and I untangle myself from the covers. Crawling across the bed towards the door, my foot gets caught in the blanket and I faceplant onto the carpet. I land right on my nose, and I feel the blood instantly start pouring out, but I can’t focus on it right now. I need to get the fuck out of this room.

I expect Mike to pounce on me while I’m getting up, but he doesn’t move from his spot. I guess he’s in the mood to chase me down like a lion hunting its prey.

Lucky me.

When I reach the door and open it, the light from the hallway pours into my room. I make the last-minute decision to grab the polar bear snow globe off the table next to my door and chuck it at him. It’s a tiny one and it’s light. I’m disoriented from the faceplant, but I still hit him right on his cheek and the snow globe shatters. He’s frozen in his spot right outside the closet.

Mike’s eyes fill with fury as blood runs down his face from the jagged glass cutting him. The broken snow globe hits the floor with a thud, and he looks down at it. I take the opportunity to make a run for it.

“LOGAN GET BACK HERE, YOU FUCKING BITCH!” Mike screams at me as I run down the stairs. It’s completely dark besides the light coming from the lamp in the living room.

As I skid across the floor, I see my mom sitting on the couch that faces the opposite wall. Her back is to me, and she is staring up at the ceiling while holding a bottle of vodka. Her fingers are wrapped so tightly around the neck of the bottle, her knuckles are white. I hear her laughing at something. She must be completely wasted because she’s in her own world and completely clueless to her husband trying to beat the shit out of her daughter.

I round the side of the couch, stopping in front of her. I reach out to shake her shoulders and notice my hands have blood on them. I wipe my nose and feel wetness. Looking down at my hands, fresh blood covers the back of my hand. I bring my t-shirt up to my nose and wipe it to the best of my ability. My white sleep shirt is covered in blood and now ruined.

Oh well, this won’t be the first shirt I throw away because it’s covered in blood.

I focus my attention back on Mom and shake her shoulders. “Mom, please help me!” I stare into her piercing green eyes, the same eyes that resemble mine but tell two very different stories. The difference is that hers show surrender and mine are full of fight.

I shake her again and her eyes focus on me, but she doesn’t respond. It’s like the lights are on but no one is home. I try again but she just shakes her head and turns her focus back to the ceiling and laughs again. Her bleach-blond hair looks like it just went through a tornado.

When I turn her head to the side, it looks like the hair on the back of her head is barely hanging on. That’s when I notice the blood coming from the side of her head. I quickly make sure that the bleeding has stopped. When I’m sure it is, I look over the rest of her body.

Before I can assess the rest of her body, I hear the floor creaking above me. My room is directly over the living room and with the steps being as loud as they are, it’s safe to assume Mike is now on the move.

I need to run but I can’t leave Mom like this. He beat her to the point that she drank herself into oblivion. If I leave, I can only imagine what he would do because I wasn’t here to be a distraction.

I can’t lose her. She may not be mother of the year but she’s all I have.

I pat my pockets for my phone. Fuck. I left it upstairs. I need to look at her head, but I don’t want to freak her out by turning on the overhead light. I did that once and it resulted in her freaking out and me being pushed into the glass coffee table. We no longer have that table because my back shattered it to pieces.

The footsteps grow closer. I hear the loud creaking of the stairs as Mike stomps his way down. He moves slowly because he fell down the steps drunk once and broke his ankle. I actually enjoyed life for a little when that happened because he couldn’t beat on us for an entire month.

Shifting my focus back to Mom, I freeze when I notice her neck. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. She has a reddish-brown handprint that is starting to show signs of bruising around her neck and a scratch just below her cheekbone.

Fuck. This is why I’m getting screamed at. Mike and Mom had a fight and now that she isn’t coherent enough to take the punishment, it’s my turn. God only knows what their fight was about this time, but I know I need to get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to leave her, but my head already hurts from my faceplant. I can’t take much more and if I stay, that was only the beginning.

The footsteps get closer, and I look up to the sliding glass door a few feet away. If I run now, I can take off out into the backyard and hide in the woods. But the last time I did that, Mike sat on the porch, and target practiced with his paintball gun on the tree I was hiding in.

Fuck it, I’m out of options.

I’m about to turn and make my way to the front door when I feel a violent tug on my hair. I let out a bloodcurdling scream while my entire body is thrown to the ground, my body nearly missing the brand-new wooden coffee table. My eyes bulge out of my head as the excruciating pain of my head meeting the hardwood floor instantly takes over my entire body.I clutch the back of my head and yelp when I’m being lifted to stand in front of my demon.

His yellow-green eyes stare at me with a fury so strong, and I wonder if this will be the time he kills me. Part of me hopes that he will because then I will finally be able to escape this awful life.




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