Revenge of the Shadows

Chapter Two

"You are giving this back as soon as I pick you up from school," Trenton warned sternly, setting my cell phone into my outstretched hand. I had managed to convince him that I needed it incase something happened at school. If I were being honest though, I just wanted it so I could make sure no pictures of me from the party ended up on Instagram.

"Promise," I replied in a cheerful tone, pulling the passenger side door open and climbing into his black jeep. Matt had gone to school early for a weightlifting session with the football team, so Trenton had to drive me today. He reversed the car and started out of the parking lot, a look of deep concentration on his face. Work was probably at the forefront of his mind, he was a salesperson for a local magazine and today, they were thinking of new ways to get more subscribers. Of course, Trenton wasn't particularly fond of the job, but he was good at it, like he was good at everything he put his mind to.

With a quiet sigh, I turned my head to look out the window but quickly averted my gaze when I locked eyes with the person in the car beside us. A feeling of discomfort tickled up my spine, but not because of the awkward eye contact. The car they were driving was a bright red mini van; the same car that my mother had driven my entire life. I closed my eyes as the memories swept over me, unbidden and unforgiving.

I looked down in dismay at the large, shattered picture frame that lay on the carpeted hall floor. A picture of my family from five years ago smiled back at me among the shards of glass as I bent down to gently slide it out from the rubble.

"Anna," my mom stumbled around the corner, startling me into dropping the photo, "Go to your room!" Long brown hair, the color of tree bark, draped her bruised face. Blood had begun to seep through her thin shirt from a fresh wound, and dark marks were forming on her thighs.

"Shut up, Charlotte," Dad growled at her, turning his eyes on me, "Don't you dare move."

My legs locked at his command, eyes widening in terror. I wanted to run so bad but my body was programmed to obey him. He had a way of making people do what he said, that I never understood. "Yes sir," I mumbled, hands shaking as I clasped and unclasped them repeatedly. My heart pounded painfully as I watched Dad yank my Mom up by her throat. His shirt was stained with spilled beer and bits of blood, sandy brown hair sticking up in clumps. Muscles rippling, Dad threw her down onto the ground unsympathetically. He turned and towered over me, standing at 6'7" with well-muscled arms and a flat, hard chest. His eyes flashed, pupils dilated, a violent look crossing his face.

"You should know better than to interrupt your mother and I," Dad curled his lip, eyes clouded with rage. The rank scent of alcohol covered him, saddening me as I remembered the good days before he started drinking himself mad. A flash of fear drowned the sadness as he raised his arm high and slapped me on the cheek. The blow sent me crashing to the ground, face throbbing in pain. Tears slipped from my eyes and landed on the soft carpet beneath me. The very hand that used to help me off the muddy ground when I had fallen from my bike as a child, was now the cause of my despair. Dad was slowly making his way over, fists clenched into tight balls at his side. I cringed, covering the rapidly-swelling side of my face with a trembling hand. My mother cried out desperately for him to draw his attention back to her, to ward him off of their terrified daughter.

Suddenly, the front door flew open and hit the wall with a thump. The sound of our salvation was music to my ears and I looked up with hopeful eyes. My big brother stood in the doorway, groceries in hand, staring at me in horror. His sandy brown hair was cut shorter than Dad's, standing at 6'3" and still growing, with a stronger build than our father. Dropping the groceries, he lunged at Dad, punching him square in the face. A sickening crunch followed and blood began to pour from Dad's nose. I let my body sink into the carpet in relief. Trenton's presence had always meant safety.