Abandonment

CRACK

A tiny pale body falls to the musky and old wooden floor, tears burning and threatening to escape her dry eyes. A large red impression of a broad grip surfaces, covering the vast majority of her small cheek. Before her stands her father, a looming and malicious dark shadow with intent to discard of the child. She was no more than thirteen, young and enduring such violence for something she couldn't control. 

"Witch. I should've known you'd be like your whore of a mother." He spits with such venom that it could tear through her soul. Faye frantically pulls her self across the disheveled and splintering spruce floor until she's pressed against the wall. Hyperventilating, fear explodes through her body and seeps down every vein and vessel with her. This was all because she displayed her abilities, a simple flame lighting from her finger to save the dying fire keeping them warm in the bleak and vicious winter.

"Papa, please! No!-" Choked sobs and desperate pleads come from her, confused and petrified by his sinister gaze and unforgiving hand. Her tiny chest heaves as she pulls herself into a ball, a tactic she used to feel safer when things went wrong.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHORES DON'T DESERVE MERCY!" A loud snapping and cracking comes from his standpoint, and she looks up to where threatens. In his hand, the leg to one of the rotting oak chairs is gripped with such ferocity that his knuckles radiate a snowy white. His arm stretches backwards, a deep hatred in his eyes as hastily pitches the rod at her head. The impact hits with so much force and power that her head bleeds, and she cries out in agony as a ringing devours her hearing. The menacing figure before her continually brings it down, beating her with no relent. Her body is covered in red and purple, bones rickety and worn. Unable to rise to her feet, Faye drags herself to the door. A vehement and overhanging cackle fills the room behind her, and she goes into a panic again. She was already a tangled mess of battered and badly beaten flesh, and if he continued, it would kill her.

Long before all this happened, Faye was already fallen to neglect. Malnourished and overworked, she was never given a chance to have normality. Everyday was filled with begging for scraps from her father, cleaning up all his messes, and doing his dirty work. Her mother was no longer around, her father claiming she ran in the night after her birth. Truth was, she met the same fate that Faye would endure - found to have otherworldly magic and condemned by her own father.  He saw no worth in Faye, only wanted to use her for his benefit.

Faye was lifted from the ground, a rough and calloused hand around her throat hoisting her to the sinking ceiling. Fragile windpipes struggled to take in the dense and ardent air as his palm closed tighter, vision freckling with black spots and head spinning. 

Just as her conscious dips from reality, she's plummeted back to the ground of the cracked and cold wintry wooden floor right before the misshapen and broken door. A sharp kick reaches her side, her small frame tumbling out into the frigid snow. 

"Go back to hell where you came from, devil's whore." The door slams, leaving her alone near the ice-coated and snow caked brush of the thicket. Crimson liquid stains the virgin snow surrounding her, frostbitten winds stabbing at her bare skin. Ragged breaths manifest in a translucent cloud above her, and warm tears trickle down her cheeks and being the only warmth she has. The snow has soaked through her tattered and raggedy clothes, icing her skin.

"h-help-" A barely audible, croaking whisper slips past her cracked and dehydrated lips. Silence veiled around her as snow hit her frail legs and arms, the only thing standing out being her fiery locks. Abandonment was her fate, no one near to help her and give her a second chance. 

Faye ceased fighting against the cold, laying completely still as she faced the gray clouded sky. Her pale skin grew blue and veiny, succumbing to the elements. Heavy eyelids took over as she began to fade, certain that she was fleeting as her purpled fingers weakly clutched at the snow.

A distant, galloping sound came from her left. Faye's head turned, anemic as her blurred vision latched onto a flash of red and white scooping her from the ground. Upon refocusing, a voice gently rang through the air around them. Her eyes trained on the face before her, silver eyes and shaggy platinum strands keeping her worry at bay as a blanket encased her quickly.

"I've got you, I've got you."