She May Not Belong to One of Us, but She Belongs to All of Us

Chapter 2

By fifth period, I was more than ready to use any excuse to leave. My uneasiness with our current assignment was causing me to practically bounce out of my seat. The task of writing where we see ourselves within the next five years, was severely grinding on me. Was it the bleak reminder that I didn't have even an idea of what I wanted to do with my life? Was it the imminent countdown to graduation, placing us exactly nine months away? Or maybe it was the very painful reminder this assignment sent to me. Emphasizing what I already ultimately knew was my future. There wasn't much else I could actually picture happening to me other than my father eventually dying or me going first. There's nobody who cares enough to actually help, let alone save me from what was eventually the end of one or both of us.

All too soon the final bell was ringing throughout the school, signaling for the closing of the school day. My mind didn't even panic at the mere thought of going home any more. While the dread still forms knots in my body, fear was something I knew my father could smell and would only excite him more. After so long, I had to come to terms with the idea that my father will be the one to kill me one day, but I didn't entirely want to go home. It was a hard decision to make whether to postpone the inevitable or to just get the punishment over with. This, like all choices in my life, is a lose-lose situation. No matter my choice, I won't be able to escape what was waiting for me. Though fate, like always, has made the choice for me, with the big, blinding yellow bus pulling up to return me to where I technically belong.

However, I wasn't prepared for the surprise that was waiting to ambush me that afternoon. My usual routine was to immediately walk upstairs and disrobe to my underwear and bra. Then, I promptly kneel outside Father's room until he gives me a command, telling me exactly what was needed to be done that day. Once those chores were fulfilled, I knew to begin preparing dinner, whichever meal he chose that night. While he eats, and usually criticizes my cooking, I sit there at his feet, hoping the meal is good enough to not warrant a beating.

But, that luck was never on my side when it came to my father, his hands striking me as soon as he finished. Unrelenting in their desire to bruise and break my skin, to mark me with his hatred and disdain. Yet today didn't follow that same pattern. Today, upon entering the home, my father was surrounded by five tall, heavily tattooed men who looked like they weren't here for tea and biscuits.

"Hey bitch, get your ass over here. I've got some news for you."

I approach him and the men standing near him. The fear was practically radiating off my body like toxic waste. As he kept speaking, his words slurring as much as his body was.

"Yes father."

"I have been so fucking fed up with your shit for so long. You're so damn worthless and just a fucking reminder of what you did to your mother. I have been drinking myself damn near to death every fucking day because I hate knowing you're here and she isn't. Drinking to forget you ain't cheap. I owe a lot of people a lot of money and most of all its these fuckers. I don't have shit but this house and your ass. So I chose to give them the cheaper thing, you bitch."

"What do you mean?"

"You're coming with us sweetheart. You will be leaving today and entering Bat Country. From here on out you are ours, doing whatever we say until we allow you to go or we put a bullet in your forehead."

The level of my fear has reached a level unknown to me. My heart is beating out of my chest. I can't even begin to process what they're saying to me right now. These men are now in charge of me and my life?

"Daddy please don't! I promise I'll be good, I'll change, I'll do whatever you want, just please don't do this!"

I beg him, dropping to my knees at his feet. Sobs are wrecking my body as I pull at his pants legs, praying with everything inside me that he for the first time ever shows me some kind of mercy.

"Shut up bitch, it's already done. I'm done with you. I'm done taking care of you. Done with seeing you in this house. I'm free of you and all the things you remind me of. The only thing i hope is that before they kill you, they make you suffer the way I have had to suffer with you since i brought you here."

The tears spilled from my eyes and sobs wracked my body as the realization drowned me. Before I could even process what was happening, my father's blood was splattered all over me, the walls, and the front door. On the floor was my father's dead body slowly oozing blood from the gaping hole in his skull. As I looked over his body, I couldn't feel anything. Somehow, my mind was drawing a blank as to how I should feel, let alone how I actually do feel. I tried to guess at the emotions one usually feels at the loss of their dad, but none of them seemed to quite fit the situation or the gravity of it all. I was simply numb and I have no idea if that was for the best or if it would be for the worst, no matter what emotion I felt.

"Fuck, I hated that guy!"