Firewhiskey ::18::

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*** Been awhile hasn't it? I promised an update! Sorry for the slowness. My sister broke her leg, and I had to take care of her... argh... and thanks to ScottishChampion11 for behing patient with me ;) anyways... happy reading to the lot of you!***

“Oh Lennox.” called a deep husky, yet terrifyingly familiar voice. She hugged her knees to her chest tightly with one hand, feeling the other clamp over her mouth to keep herself from making any noise while she took in and let out deep breaths.

She didn’t dare close her eyes, knowing she would meet his dark, cold, hideous eyes the moment she opened them. She was ducked in the corner behind the Christmas tree, hoping silently that the very few gifts would cover her presence.

She sat for ten minutes, watching as his figure would appear and disappear through the small gaps between the evergreen’s branches. She felt tears quietly streaming down her cheeks, which had grown pale from pure hysteria.

“Darling I won’t hurt you... where are you? I only want to talk.” his silky cunning voice erupted from the kitchen. She felt her small child body shivering, knowing very well what he wanted by the tone of his words.

She found him sounding like this just before he would round her up to her bedroom and strip the clothes from her body. She would have rather been beaten senseless than go through that pain again. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ah. There you are.” she heard his footsteps nearing her. She froze, eyes widening like a deer in headlights as he poked his head around the bristles, smiling down at her. He reached for her, causing her to kick the trunk of the tree in defense.

The heavy, ornament filled, prickly decoration fell on him. He yelped in pain, although he was more shocked than anything else. She stumbled around it, and made a break for it down to her parents’ bedroom. 

Her mother had taken the other children to the fair, and forced the eldest to stay with her muggle father... her abusive... cruel... sick... muggle father. She ran straight for the baseball bat that he had kept under his side of the bed.

She clasped the wooden object in her hand, waiting behind the door and waiting anxiously for him to arrive. She heard his gentle footsteps grow louder with each passing second until she finally saw his silhouette in the doorway.

He took a few steps inside. She quickly mentally debated where she should strike him. The head? That could kill him... or seriously injure. She just needed to escape. She went for his back, swinging with as much gusto as she had.

He fell forward, and she made her way around the door, slamming it shut behind her and locking it from the outside (her mother had put the doorknob on the wrong way). She made her way to the front door. 

She heard him shaking the bedroom door, noticing by now she had locked it. He began to kick at it. The front door was locked. She didn’t have time to fiddle with it. She went back to the kitchen, grabbing the first thing she could find.

She heard the door fall to the ground down the hallway, and loud angry footsteps try to find her.She could feel her heart pounding like a cloth on hammer against her chest. If she had been attempting to hide, just the sound of it would have given her away.

“There you are you vile little girl!” he lunged for her. She gasped, closing her eyes. Her hand tightened around the handle of the knife, and she plunged it forward, not knowing what to expect. She didn’t know what would happen.

A few seconds went by. She felt nothing. She slowly peeked one eye open, immediately spotting the blood on his chest, then the bewildered look on his face. He fell to the ground, his back laying on the tiled floor.

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