Izzy P.O.V
I got to the studio at 4:03 but luckly there wasnt many students there. Thank God. I put my duffel bag down and began to stretch. Once everybody was here we did warm ups and then started our dance routines.
9:00
Its now nine o'clock and dance class is over. Everyone got there stuff and left out. I got everything together and ready and shut the lights off making my way out of the building.
Walking out I bumped into the last person I wanted to see. Who I thought was in jail for the rest of his life. It was my foster father. I was in foster care for 6 years. From 3-8 years old. My foster father name was James. My foster mother was never home cause she was always working so hard. When she wasn't home he would ask me if I wanted to "play a game". In this "game" we played. I had to take my clothes. At the time of being 3 years old I didn't know any better. So I would take my clothes off and he told me to lay on the bed and spread my legs. And that's what I did. He would take pictures of my clit. Than he would start rubbing it and licking it. I didn't like the feeling at all. This went on until I was 6. I had started to realize that this wasn't a game I wanted to play anymore. I realized that this wasn't right. What he was doing to me wasn't right. I started to tell him no. So he and things got more aggressive. He would hit and beat me because I said no. Then when my mother came home he would tell her that all my bruises came from getting hurt at the park. Or I would get hit by the other kids. When I was 8 he did it to me again. He told me take my clothes off and lay on the bed and spread my legs. I did as told so I wouldn't get like that. He would began to rub it and lick it. I would cry because I felt so dirty. My mother walked in on him doing this to me. She the tears on my face. A look of hurt abd sorrow came across her face because of the way she saw me.
Tears began to stain my eyes and face. He still had that devious killer look in his eyes as always since 11 years ago. "W-w-what are you doing here?! Your supposed to be rotting in hell where my mother put you!" I said to him. "I escaped and came to find my little angel. Tell me, Izzy. Do you wanna play a game?" He said so calmly with his eyes glued to me with a Michael Myers knife in his hand. Raised at me. I shook my head no. Turning I ran back into the building. But before I could get further into the building he was hot on my heels and pulled me down to the floor with him. He ripped shirt open so the only thing you could see was my bra. "You've grown up so much since ive last seen you 11 years ago. I miss you." He said to me trailing the knife down my body. He stopped at my hips and suddenly I felt a stinging sensation in my sides. He stabbed me in my sides. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" I screamed in pain and agony. I have elbowed him in the face and he fell back. I grabbed the knife out his hand and stabbed in the eye with. He screamed and I stabbed him again in his mouth. His body limp. I cried. After all these years he's finally gone. I grabbed my sweater out my Duffel bag and tied It around my sides tightly so I could put pressure on my wounds. I was left in a state of shock because of him. I left the building and called the cops letting them know where his body was. After I hung up I threw my phone causing It to crack up and break. I walked home. I felt weak but I managed to keep it together. What if he's still alive? What if he's after me know right now. What if he kills me? I began to run home not looking back and not paying attention to the pain I'm causing myself. Once I got home, I had the keys in my pocket. I unlocked the walking in. I heard someone yell at me. I instantly thought it was James with that knife. " IM SORRY PLEASE DONT STAB ME AGAIN!!" I screamed and scared. My eyes began to feel heavy. Last thing I saw was august standing looking at me. Or at least I think that was him. Before I blacked out.
