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“Surprise, Little Bird.”
I grip his hand harder, shrinking behind him.
“Look at them, they’re fucking weak. And as long as you're with me, no one will ever hurt you again.”
My eyes sink into the dead ones of Atticus’ dad’s.
Past
“You have a lot of kids, no one will notice if one’s gone.” He says to my mom as I hide behind the couch. Atticus told me to stay put, but I had to go to the bathroom and then they came out of their room and this was the closest place I could hide.
“She’s young.” My mom complains, coughing from one too many cigarettes.
“She’s ripe. Perfect for what this woman wants. She’s offering millions.”
“Millions?” My mom questions. “For her?”
“Yes. Now let’s go to bed. Discuss it in the morning.”
I let out a sigh of relief as I heard their door shut. I begin to stand when a hand grabs me by a fist full of my hair. “Beingnosey will get you in trouble girl,” he barks, throwing me on the couch and pinning me to it with his heavy weight.
His knife gleams in the light as he traces it up my arm. “We may lose a few hundred but I think popping your cherry might be worth it, what do you think?”
I squirm, trying to fight him off me but he’s so big and heavy. Tears blur my eyes as he reaches for the hem of my shirt.
I want to scream, but it’s as if fear paralyzed me and all I can do is plead in my head. Looking over his shoulder, I spot my mother, glaring at me in hatred. “Mom,” I whisper, “Help. Me.”
But she doesn't, she watches as he tears my shirt from my body, and as a last ditch effort, I raise my knee, hitting him where it counts.
“You fucking bitch!” he roars, his hand slipping and stabbing the knife into my palm but I don't even feel it as I escape, running to my room and locking the door. I curl up into a ball in my closet. Crying until I fall asleep.
Present
The memories hit me hard, playing in a loop. Every look, every unwanted touch and my fingernails dig into Atticus’ hand as I shake. He looks down, eyes narrowing. “Something you want to share?”
“He…He...” but I can't get it out.
“Shhh. Come on. Let’s end this.”
Chapter 32
Since the tenderage of five, I’ve had fantasies of killing my sperm donor, but none as violent as what came to my mind as Constance trembled and tried to tell me what this bastard had done to her in the few moments I wasn't around to protect her. She doesn’t have to say it, I can fucking see it and it’s enough to cause my sight to go red. Her tiny hand clasped in mine is the only thing grounding me.
I stalk towards them. Her mom is weak, and my father has an arrow through his ankle. I’m surprised he got this far. Both their eyes widen slightly as I approach them, stopping mere feet away from them.
“Fast or slow?” I ask Constance, pointing at her mom.
“Fast.”
Such a pure soul. I would have fucking gutted the cunt. With a flick, I send my knife into the middle of her eyes and she falls back with a sickening slump.
“Fast or slow?” I ask again.
“Slow.” She says confidently. I grin, walking and bending down to retrieve my knife from the cunt’s head.
“Want to help, baby?”
I don’t wait for her answer, I wrap both our hands around my knife.
