Dangerous

Chapter Five: Conquerer

"I just- I can't believe he'd say something like this," I sob, wiping furiously at my eyes.

The officer glances at his companion. They whisper something then nod at me. "Okay, we think you're innocent. Go home to your parents, okay?"

"Yeah-yeah, okay." I sniffle and walk out of the questioning room, swallowing a smile. Police were surprisingly gullible. All I had to do was cry and tell them I didn't threaten anyone.

"You got away with it?" A voice demands in disbelief. I don't have to look up to know it's Justin.

"I need to go," I say quickly, and open the doors that lead outside.

"Guess you did always get away with everything. But this- how could you?" Justin accuses angrily. He attempts to not show how hurt he is too, but I can hear it in his voice and my heart sinks, until I realize what he's trying to do.

I am being watched and recorded and he knows it as well as I do. He is trying to get me to admit to something. It almost worked, because I was so far in my own mind and emotions for a moment, I might've almost said something that could be used against me.

"Stop talking to me!" I yell at him as I back away. "You promised you'd leave me alone!" I turn and run as fast as I can.

I run to a place I'm usually running from. My parents' house.

I am hoping and praying they're not home. But I'm not having much luck lately.

My mom is cooking and my dad is kissing her cheek when I walk in. They both turn to me when I walk in. Their expressions turn an icy cold.

"What?" I say. My eyes are just as venomous.

My father whispers something to his wife. She giggles and nods, turning back to her cooking.

My father crosses his arms at me. I should not have been so stupid. I should have gone in through my window. "I haven't seen you in days. Where the hell have you been?"

"Out," I say, desperate to reach my room. But I withhold and keep my ground firm, not wanting to show any signs of weakness.

"Out where?" He takes a step forward, narrowing his beady evil eyes.

"Why does it matter?" I glance away, towards my bedroom that is upstairs. I long to be in there, my door locked, and safe away from these horrid people who have done nothing but attempt to ruin me and my life.

"It matters because I want to know!" He yelled, taking another threatening step forward.

I flinch, but am still too proud to make a run for it. "I was just...at the library." It was a stupid lie, but the only one I could think of right on the spot. We both know I'm not telling the truth.

We are glaring at each other. "You will tell me where you went," my father growls, sounding eager to hear the fear in my voice we both know is coming. My mother giggles in the corner.

A wave of hatred floods over me and I now wish I had my gun. But my satchel is in my room, somewhere I can't get to at the moment.

"No! You don't deserve to know anything!" I scream at him. I am crying. I can feel the tears running down my face.

Something. I noticed something. Don't ask me what- I couldn't tell you. Maybe it was a twitch in the eye. Maybe it was a deep breath. Maybe it was just instinct.

All I knew was that now I needed to run. I turn and sprint up the stairs, and sure enough, I could hear my father right behind me.

I go up the stairs as fast as I can. My father grabs a hold of my foot. This isn't good. At all. "Let go!" I shout desperately, reaching for the top of the stairs.

A hand slaps me across the face. I gasp and hold my cheek. Now he's blocking the way to my bedroom.

"Let me go! Just let me go!" I scream at him. I am praying to God that He will make this stop. Because oh my god it hurts so much and I'm so so scared.

My dad grins. I am out of luck. He kicks me in the side and I go tumbling down the stairs onto the landing. I've been crying harder than I thought. My hair is in my face, and it's soaked from my tears.

"Please, make it stop," I sob, cowering in the corner as my father walks down the stairs towards me. I am pleading to no one. No one is there. And even if someone was, I have no one who cares.

Another kick in my stomach. I cry out and grab the railing next to me. A sob racks my body. I feel as if the world is shaking.

A beer bottle shatters against me. Glass erupts. Cuts appear along my skin. I wail in agony. I want to die. I do not want to live this life anymore.

A hand grasps my throat. This is it. I can't breathe, and oh, am I relieved. I'm so relieved to be done. I cannot do this much longer. I want to thank my dad for this, but I can't, because his hand is around my throat. So I open my eyes slightly and thank him with them.

Wrong choice. He sees that I am happy to die. Happiness for me is the last thing he wants. He immediately drops me.

Now the hits keep coming. A kick in the side, a knee in the cheek, a slap in the cheek, another bottle thrown.

I curl up into a ball. Someone is sobbing and screaming. I realize a few seconds later that it's me. Finally, the oncoming beating stops. My father has left me to sit there, sobbing and wailing, wanting to die.

"I wish I could fly," I whisper to myself. "I wish I could fly far, far away from here."

• • •

I look at myself in the mirror. I look disastrous. My eyes are completely red and puffy. My hair-which is a complete mess- in front of my head is wet from my tears. I am bleeding and bruised. I choke back another sob.

I have learned my lesson. I will not be so stupid as to go through the front next time. But now I am safe, in my room, with my door locked.

I decide to take a warm bath. I turn on the water and let it run as I grab a change if clothes. Sweatpants and a cotton t-shirt sound nice and comfortable.

I get in the bathtub and settle in. I sigh as the water runs over my skin, soothing my many cuts and bruises.

I close my eyes and breathe shakily. "Ariana, what have you done?" I whispered to myself, a sob bursting out of me.