Prologue

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For as long as Lance could remember is that he was different, foreign kind of different, but he couldn't place on how. Maybe it's because he was darker than his siblings or the fact, he didn't know things they did. But his questions were why. Why was he different? Why did he have to be treated so poorly that he's afraid to even breath. So, hiding in a small space under his bed, even if things were moved, he was small enough to not be seen or found. It was his only safe spot, his only spot where he could be safe. He heard the floorboards of wood creaking under weight of someone heavy, he held his breath and covered his hands over his mouth and nose to silence more sounds he may emit. He needed to be quiet and still as a statue. One wrong move and he's done for.

When booted feet appeared in his vision he tensed significantly, he dared not to move a single muscle nor breath some air into his lungs. Fear filling him up completely and holding him rigid. Eyes trained heavily in small shadows as he watched, not moving, not breathing, as the booted feet moved. If he moved, it was all over for him until the next time. There was only so many places he could hide and never be found by those he was trying to hide from, to disappear from. To vanish completely. 

"Come out Lancey Lance, wouldn't want to keep Daddy waiting" he closed his fingers firmer over his mouth and nose, keeping his quick intake of a feared breath at bay in silence. He was being coxed, taunted to come out of his hiding spot. He wasn't going to move even when he knew, so painfully aware of what was going to happen when he didn't listen. 

The weight of his father made the floor creak more, but Lance didn't move. He remained still and silent not inching forward or daring to move at all. He could hear him searching for something, for him. He dared not breath again no matter how much his lungs burned at the thought of no air, but he ignored them no matter how crucial he needed to breath was. 

Fear was neither enemy nor friend, it was a part of his survival. 

He listened and watched; a frustrated growl escaped his father before a malicious chuckle left as well, Lance feared for his life. He knew this laugh and he was scared, very scared. "Come out, come out, little mistake, wouldn't want to have a leg broken... now, would we?" he shaked, fear taking a sharp jab at him, and he prevented himself from whimpering, he would not whimper with his father so close, so very close to him. A tsk left his father's mouth and he growled once more before the creaking boards followed his departer out the door in the room, he finally drew a breath, but he wasn't in the clear. He was still in danger. He took the opportunity to come out, if he could make it to the backyard, he could hide in one of the bushes until Veronica came home from one of her many jobs. Honestly, he worried for her, and he's heard Rachel the same thing. Veronica may be the second oldest, but she overworks herself sometimes and Lance hates that. 

Sneaking his way into the hall in light footsteps he looked in all directions, his father may be loud and burly but he's also extremely a force to be reckon with, Lance knew he had to tred carefully and lightly. One wrong move and it's over with, if he got his hands on him then he needed to find an excuse to give Veronica if he couldn't move. Taking a breath, he lightly began to walk, he probably should have used the roof, but he didn't want to get spotted by people so opted to try a different way. He listened and held his breath in quiet tones, he had to make this quick, and he had to get to the backyard. Stepping down the stairs not remembering if his father even went down them and glanced around, not finding anything he continued but quickly his muscles tensed very harshly, and his breathing stopped dead. Something outside of his vision grabbed him by the back of the neck, fear coming back full force and his small blue eyes to widen extremely to the point they looked like they were going to come out of their eye sockets. The hand grabbing the back of his neck was firm and harsh, he chocked as he felt his windpipe be nearly crushed. 

He could hear the laugh as if it was ringing in his ears, a mouth lowered next to his ear, and he froze. "If you thought you could hide from me boy and think I wouldn't find you, you are wrong." He couldn't breathe, he knew the consequences from not listening the first time. He knew! But he didn't want to be beat bloody again, he didn't want to be hurt again. He didn't want to ache with pain. He hated his situation, neither of his older siblings or mother helped him, Veronica was in the dark since she was always overworking herself. He wanted to be free, but the chains kept him bound to his father. He wanted to cry right here and now, if death was an option, he'd gladly take it, but he refrained from it. If he didn't kill himself then his father might do it himself.

He chocked a gasp when he felt nails dig into his skin and he was being lifted up from the floor by his neck, his feet dangled, and he struggled to breathe. His father grinned with devilish amusement, Lance couldn't focus, he needed oxygen. Now! Pulling him back, Lance flailed, he was terrified and in need of oxygen, he needed to breathe. "Let's have a bit of fun, shall we?" Eyes wide, Lance managed to scream out once before everything went dark and his senses cut off. 

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10/14/23

Helping Love - Klance (Book 1)Where stories live. Discover now