How ironic.
If I hurry, I can take off through the woods and hopefully, I’ll be far enough away when he returns that he won’t catch me. Reaching the front door, I twist the knob and fling it open. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach when I slam into a wall.
No, not a wall. A body. Fuck!
“Going somewhere, Butterfly?” Preston slurs as he shoves through me into the entryway.
I fucked up. I waited too long. I blew it, and now that he’s caught me trying to leave again, I’m done for.
“I was just going to sit out on the porch to wait for you, Preston. I couldn’t sleep so I thought some fresh air might help.” I reply without hesitation.
Please believe it, please believe..
“Fully dressed? Oh, Lizzy.” He snorts. “You were going to try to leave again, weren’t you? You still think you can escape me.” His tone darkens and he steps closer to me. The hope I felt only seconds ago, is gone. My chest deflates as he brings his nose to mine.
No.
“When are you gonna learn, Lizzy. You belong to me. You will never leave.” He grits through his teeth. His hand raises and fists in my hair to yank my head back, then twirls my body around and starts dragging me in the direction of the stairs. “I really didn’t want to have to do this to you again, Butterfly. But it’s clear to me you haven’t figured it the fuck out yet.”
He’s going to lock me in the room again. No. NO! I can’t do that again. I won't do that again!
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he begins to shove me upward. I try to resist, and that pisses him off. He slams my face into the third step.Once, twice, three times.He wrenches my head back again and I scream at the pain throbbing behind my eyes. I can feel the blood pouring out of my nose and busted open lips.
“Move! Before I fucking do it again!” He screams and shoves me once more. This time, I catch myself with my hands. My feet begin to move on their own accord up the steps, my flight response kicking in. My head begins to spin and I trip on the second to last step from the top, causing Preston to stumble behind me. In a hazy state, I make a snap decision. As Preston tries to right himself, I kick backward with all of my strength. My foot lands on his chest and I hear the air escape his lungs. His grip on my hair loosens, and he starts to tumble backward. Grabbing the railing forsupport, I grip on tight to avoid going down with him. Kicking once more, his drunken body rolls backward down the steps, and he hits the landing with a hard thud. He groans and rolls on his side.
Not wasting a second, I run as fast as I can down the stairs and jump over his body. My feet hit the floor and I start to run again, when his hand thrusts forward, grabbing onto my ankle. He yanks my leg out from under me, and starts to pull me backward toward him. I reach my hands out and try to grab onto anything I can for leverage. My hand grazes a table that sits at the end of one of the couches, effectively knocking it over. The lamp, picture, and lit candle on the end crash to the floor, and the candle rolls to a rest against the wall, right underneath the floor length curtains.
Adrenaline washes over me, and I kick backward again with my free foot. I hear a crunch followed by Preston’s scream.
“You fucking bitch!” He releases my leg, and I scramble back to my feet. Running again, I almost reach the door before a hand fists into my hair once more. He smashes my face into the door, black taking over my vision, before he starts to yank me back through the house. We pass the kitchen island and sink, and I reach my hands out to stop myself from going any further. My fingertips graze the shattered porcelain in the sink, and I scramble to grab onto a piece. Feeling the sharp object in my hand, I manage to spin myself around in his hold, successfully freeing my hair from his grasp. I thrust my hand forward, hoping the strike lands–and it does. Looking down, I see the large porcelain shard protruding from his abdomen. Dark red blood begins to pour from the wound and drip onto the floor.
“What the?” He gasps and looks down. His hands shake and reach for the wound, and I take advantage of his shocked state to take off into a run again. Reaching the door, I turn the knob and I hear his footsteps behind me. Quickly looking for anything I can use, I spot the metal baseball batpropped next to the door. Preston was an all star pitcher for our high school team, and he still goes to the batting cages regularly with some of his coworkers.
Thank God for him never leaving his glory days behind him.
I snatch the bat, and whirl around swinging it wildly.
Thwack.
The bat makes contact with his shoulder and he lets out a yell. I swing again and again, pushing him back into the house that’s now starting to engulf in flames. The bat lands into his stomach, driving the porcelain deeper into his gut. He doubles over and begins coughing up blood onto the floor as more starts to seep from his wound. I swing again at his knee caps, and he screams in pain as he crumples to the floor. One more time, and it crashes into the side of his skull. He falls to his side onto the ground, and stops moving. Stepping forward into the puddle of blood that’s beginning to form underneath of him, I stare down at his motionless body. My head tips to the side and a laugh bubbles up in my chest. Deranged laughter builds, and for a moment, I’m sure I’ve gone crazy. The laughter turns to tears, and I bend down.
“Fuck. You. Preston. Rot in hell.”
I start swinging the bat again into his chest and the side of his head. When my arms feel like they’re about to fall off, I stop.
My chest heaves as I try to pull in deep breaths and swallow thickly as the smell of blood and smoke invades my nostrils. My heavy arms finally fall to my side, dropping the bat. I look down at the mother fucker who lays motionless at my feet. Looking to my right, I see flames have completely engulfed the living room and are rapidly moving toward me. I quickly bend down, and check for a pulse. When I feel nothing, I bolt.
I burst into the woods and run like hell toward the only place I know to go.
Parker
Present day
The sound of water dripping somewhere off in the distance breaks me out of a dark haze slowly. Groaning, I roll my head to the side and try to open my eyes. They crack slightly, and agonizing pain shoots through my skull. I try to lift my hands up, to place them on the sides of my head and try to push the pain away, but I can’t. My limbs feel like they’re weighted down with cinder blocks and I try to take stock of my body. Everything is still attached, but I can hardly move.
What the hell happened?
I wait a beat for the pain in my head to ease, then try to open my eyes again. Everything is blurry and I blink to clear my vision. In front of me is an old, cracked concrete wall with a small window at the top. A layer of filth covers the window, making it hard for me to tell what time of day it is. Looking down, I see that I am sitting on an old futon mattress, that sits on top of a floor that’s similar to the wall in front of me. My legs are tied together at the ankles, and once more at the middle of my shins, and my arms are bound at the wrists behind my back. I shift my body to scan the area around me, and see there is nothing else in here. It’s freezing here, and the air is damp.
