Where We Left Off

Prologue

        I smell him before I see him.

            The strong scent of Wild Turkey drifts under my bedroom door before I even hear his footsteps creaking down the hall. Next to me in her matching twin bed, eleven year old Isabelle pulls her covers up until they’re just under her eyes. Even in the darkness, they look to me, wide with fear.

            Raising a finger to my lips, I tell her to be quiet and she knows the routine. She sinks back into her mattress and closes her scared eyes. I follow in suit as the wood creaks just outside our door.

            Maybe this one time he’ll leave us alone.

            Belle whimpers quietly as the doorknob turns and soon the door opens, letting a small, rectangle of dim light reach the small space between our beds. I risk a peek out of my eyes. Our father stands there, leaning against the doorframe for support. His hungry eyes are staring at Belle.

            He staggers towards her and she looks to me to say something, to stop what’s about to happen. But I give her the look; the look that tells her to pretend to sleep, the one that tells her that maybe this time, he’s sober enough to realize what he’s doing and stop.

            As he leans over her bed, I hold onto this small bit of hope with both hands. He starts to brush her chestnut hair behind her ear and I start to lose my grip. I’m barely holding on with my fingers when he starts to pull the covers back.

            “Get off her!” I scream, sitting straight up in bed.

            My father looks to me, anger flaring in his glassy eyes. He opens his mouth to yell; to swear. But no words come out. Instead, he gasps.

            His right hand clutches his chest, as if he’s clawing for the stone-cold heart that’s inside. The anger instantly fades into fear but he can’t get any words out. I stare at him in shock as he turns back to meet Belle’s gaze. I watch as her hands shake, clutching her blanket as tightly as she can.

            Our father gasps again before his body starts to tremor. His torso moves violently, like there’s something inside him trying to get out. Before I can even get out of my bed, his legs collapse and Belle screams. He falls onto her bed, landing in a heap on top of her.

            It takes me five minutes to finally pry her free from his unconscious body. Belle’s sobbing uncontrollably as I pull her hand and led her into the kitchen

            “We’re leaving,” I tell her quietly. “We can’t bring anything; we just have to go.”      

            “What about Dad?” She cries, clutching onto my arm. “Is he going to be okay?”

            “I don’t know,” I admit, blinking back tears. “I don’t know what happened. But this is our chance, Belle. We finally can get out of here.”

            She nods as a hiccup rises in her throat. I tell her to go put on her coat and shoes and I’ll meet her outside. After she’s gone, I steal a peak at my father. He’s breathing, which I don’t know whether to take as a good or bad sign.

            Chewing on my bottom lip, I debate what to do. After thirty seconds, I sprint into the kitchen.

            “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

            I leave the phone hanging by the cord.

A/N: This is my new story. It's different from anything I've wrote, but I hope you like it! Please drop me a comment and tell me what you think, I'd really appreciate that! :)