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Heavy footsteps are heard behind me, and my heart sinks into my stomach while fear envelops me, but I bite on my lip, holding on and never giving him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
That’s one weapon I have in this never-ending nightmare of mine from where there is no escape. It’s a prison built on my beaten skin and scars marring my body, serving as a canvas for his cruelty and resentment.
“Take her away!” I manage to bark.
“You little shit think you can make decisions in my house?” he asks, getting up and picking up the knife as he powers toward me, grabbing me by the throat and pushing me against the door as he lifts up the knife. “That smug expression on your face.”
My cry of pain reverberates through the space when he pierces the knife through my cheek, digging it deep into my flesh and dragging it back and forth while hurt swallows me whole.
He pulls it out, the blood pouring down my neck as he drags me closer to the fire and practically shoves my head into it, the burning sensations bruising my skin, and it’s hard to breathe as I continue to scream. Although at this point, they are just barely audible whimpers. “You’ll finally learn, Octavius,” he seethes, extending the knife toward the fire and then piercing my cheek again, the hot blade burning my already torn flesh, and the pain is so strong I don’t think I can stand it. “Cry and beg, Octavius. Cry and beg me for mercy, Keneth’s son.”
I have no idea how, but I order all my strength to hold back the tears forming in my eyes and stay quiet.
“Still brave. Well, this time around, it’s going to be different. This time around, I’ll teach you to obey.” His manic laughter fills my ears. “Maybe we should go to your greenhouse where Estella loves to hide.” He kicks me hard on the knees, making me bend, and I almost fall into the fire. “There is no safe place in this world for you, boy, because I rule this mansion. You need to die. Maybe I should help you speed up this process.”
* * *
My eyes stare up at the ceiling while Wayne hovers above me, holding the poker in his hand as he drags it on the ground and smiles.
Blood and sweat slide down my body, beaten up beyond anything I’ve ever experienced as he brought me here after destroying my face.
Then he proceeded to break everything here and forced me to eat soil, pushing it into my mouth and demanding me to beg for mercy, but I hadn’t.
The beating with the poker followed shortly, and the pain has been such a constant for hours that I don’t feel a thing or pretend not to feel it.
“Look at you. How pathetic and weak you are.” He chuckles. “Keneth’s son is a coward. You’re nothing like your father.”
Another blow to my stomach and I cough up blood, feeling it tear my skin and leaving yet another bruise, although if I survive this…it will be a scar.
Another scar on my body, and I hate it.
“Say it. Say it, Octavius, and this will end.”
Gathering my willpower in my fist, I throw dirt at him, and he curses while I start to crawl outside the greenhouse that had been my sanctuary, but now it’s coated with his hatred that I cannot stand.
I don’t want to die in the place he tarnished!
I barely make it out when he kicks me in the back, my cry echoing in the early morning, and I fall on my stomach, hitting my chin and rolling to the side. “Beg, you piece of shit! Beg and cry, Keneth!” He has lost his mind completely. Now I understand every time he punishes me…mentally, he punishes my father, who he tried to best his whole life and never could.
To him, I’m a symbol of my parents' love, and he cannot stand it.
“Beg, Keneth. Who would come and save you anyway? No one gives a shit about you.” He clicks his tongue. “Even Estella hides in her room while you suffer.”
He can fuck himself. My sister deserves to be saved while he rages. I’ll take a thousand episodes like this over seeing her hurt.
Kick. Kick. Kick.
“Beg, Keneth. No one would come to the rescue.” His voice becomes high-pitched as he yells, “Fucking beg!”
“Florian.” My nails cut into the ground, and I whisper again, “Florian.”
The only name I can utter in my despair because there is a person who gives a shit about me.
“What did you say?”
“Florian.” It’s hard to keep my focus on him. “Florian.”
He always checks on me from the secret phone. If I don’t text back or call, he shows up. He came up with that rule a long time ago.
