ARIEL
"Dear Lord, forgive me of all my sins and cleanse me from my unrighteousness. Bless and keep me throughout the night and let no evil come near me. Let no plans of the any or plans of the devil prosper against me. Guide and protect me while I sleep and please don't let me have any nightmares. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen." I finished my prayers and got off my knees, quickly climbing into bed and burying myself under the covers before he came.
The moment my body hit the mattress, a sigh left my mouth. I was so tired and emotionally drained. Rocking myself forward and backwards, I tried falling asleep so I wouldn't have to face him again tonight.
He was my guardian. I've been living alone with him ever since my mother died four years ago. Even though I was eighteen, I couldn't leave. He wouldn't permit me to.
I knew if I tried running, he'd find me just like he found mom when she tried to leave. He'd also make me disappear too.
He told everyone that my mom ran away, leaving us. But only him and I knew the truth of what happened that night.
The night he killed her with that beer bottle. I couldn't say anything, even though I desperately wanted to. I had to keep my mouth shut in order to keep my life.
The years alone with him were literal hell. No school, no friends and no social life. He kept me isolated, just how he liked it. All for himself.
I wasn't a dumb little girl. I read a lot and I knew that I had much of potential. But life just wasn't on my side.
"Ariel!" He slurred and I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. He was drunk again. It didn't surprise me, he was every night.
I clenched my eyes shut and dragged the covers over my head when I heard him jiggling my door handle.
He stepped into the room and sat on my bed, right beside me.
"I know you're awake, Ari." He whispered, placing his hand on my thigh. I gulped, feeling sick to my stomach.
My heart rate picked up as his hand slowly climbed to my private area. When he was about to touch it, I jumped up from the bed.
"Why do you always run, Ari. You know there's no where to run to." Peter chuckled as I moved away from him. He got up and stalked towards me. For each step he took forward, I took one backward.
"I said stop fucking running!" He yelled, grabbing a hold of me. I flinched when he wrapped his hands around my small waist and engulfed me into a hug.
I remembered when his hugs used to be friendly and kind. They were innocent, but not anymore. These hugs made my insides churn and my heart sink.
I shuddered when he inhaled deeply, smelling my hair. His hands travelled down my waist and to my buttocks, which he groped roughly.
"So big." He sighed in content as he squeezed my cheeks. "Big and firm. Better than your mother's."
I immediately moved out of his hold, even though I knew there would be consequences for doing so. I didn't really care, he disgusted me. And everytime he mentioned mom, I'd be sick.
How could he.
"Go and prepare my dinner." He ordered and I scrunched my nose at the smell of alcohol, stiff on his breath.
I nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes before they had the chance to fall. Then I headed downstairs to the kitchen, Peter trailing behind me.
When we arrived, he took a seat around the counter and I took a dish and began sharing the food I'd prepare. I so badly wanted to crush glass and feed it to him, but he always checked his food.
As I was finishing up with his plate, he moved from the counter and stood behind me. I shivered in disgust as his hot breath fanned the back of my neck.
"So beautiful." He whispered, pushing his tongue into my ear and licking it.
This all started a few months after my mom died and I've been enduring it ever since.
But tonight, I'd had enough.
As his hands reached for my breast I grabbed the pot handle and swung as hard as I could.
It echoed throughout the house when the pot connected with his hollow head. And immediately he fell to the floor, unconscious.
What a waste of good chicken stew, I thought to myself as I stared down at the pieces of chicken on the floor.
I made sure to hit the fucker again so that he wouldn't wake up before I wanted him to. I must admit though, the pan was mighty powerful.
How's that for Rapunzel, bitch.
Swiftly, I put the frying pan on the stove and turned the flame to maximum speed. Then, I grabbed the bottle of vegetable oil and poured it all in. I watched it heat quickly and soon smelt it too.
As if right on time Peter started waking up. I carefully grabbed the pan off the stove and poured all the hot oil into his ear.
He screamed like a bitch as the sound of his skin frying could be heard throughout the kitchen. Thank God we lived so far out of town. He did it to ensure I couldn't run away, now no one could hear him scream.
When his body fell in shock, I grabbed the biggest knife I could find and drove it repeatedly into his chest.
I didn't stop stabbing him until I was satisfied. Until he was dead.
Then, I grabbed a few of my stuff and ran.
To freedom.
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END OF CHAPTER 💕
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