Warning: The following chapter mentions abuse. If you feel that you may be uncomfortable reading this kind of content, you are welcomed to leave. Reader discretion is adviced.
I can't go on, if I do, I'll die.
I received another hard kick to my stomach and I felt more salty blood inside my mouth. I coughed it out, curling into a ball.
This has to be happening to someone else, it can't be me.
His laugh echoed through the halls as he grabbed a leather whip that was on the floor.
This isn't real.
I felt the leather rip at my skin. I whimpered and pulled my knees closer to my chest.
This isn't real.
The leather hit me once again, tearing through my shirt and skin easily. Tears streamed down my cheeks from the pain.
This. Isn't. Real.
It hit me again, harder, I felt my skin split. I let out a small yelp.
This. Is. Not. Real
I'm falling, the pain faded away, and I just felt...numb...
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
The door opened, letting in a little bit of light. A tall silhouette stood at the doorway, he smelt strongly of wine and he was holding a huge cane.
I backed away. He was back.
I watched as he stumbled towards me, sniffing and crying slightly.
"It was all your fault! You useless waste of space!" he scolded, raising his cane and starting to hit me. I wasn't really listening, I was trying my best not to break down in front of him, I knew he wanted me to scream, he wanted me to beg him for mercy as he continually whacked my body with a cane. There was no way I would give it to him.
It seemed almost natural, a daily activity, though I'm not sure how it started. Why was this man hitting me? Why he came in day after day to beat me up? I couldn't tell.
"You shouldn't have existed. She would have survived if it wasn't for you!" he shouted again, using all his might to hit his cane against my leg once again. I let out an agonizing scream, my leg burned like it was set on fire.
He stopped, I guess he figured I suffered enough. He will always go away after this. I waited after he stopped and watch him set his cane down. Finally...
"That's more like it, I'll stop with that. Well don't worry, I have something else..." he said and picked up a ceramic vase that was on the floor. There wasn't much light in my room but I was sure that he was walking towards me with the vase held over his head.
No. No, this will kill me. I tried to stand up to run to a place where he couldn't get me but my right leg burned in agony when I tried to move it. Was it...
I felt something heavy smash into the top of my skull, shattering into pieces. The shock wave travelled through my head, liquid poured into my face. Dots surrounded my vision followed by darkness and I collapsed onto the cold cement floor, my head against a warm liquid.
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
Mabel watched as she saw a young boy collapse onto the floor. Towering over him was her father, someone whom she trusted. How can the man standing in front of her be the same man that tucks her into bed?
The man turned around and saw Mabel. His brown eyes was nothing but bloodthirsty as he glared at Mabel.
"What are you doing here!?"
Mabel ran with all her might back into her room with the man behind her. She slammed the door shut and locked it behind her.
"Mabel! Open the door!" the man shouted angrily.
She didn't listen. Tears appearing in her eyes as she backed away from the door. The man behind it wasn't her father. Her father would never do that...would he?
"Mabel! Open the door this instant! Don't make me come in!" the man warned. He banged his fist against the door, causing it to vibrate.
"N-No," Mabel didn't know what to do. She ran towards the window and threw it open. It was a 4 storey drop to the ground. But there were ledges lining the walls.
The door was barely holding onto its hinges, it looked like it was going to give way at any moment, giving the crazy man access to this vulnerable girl.
Mabel stepped out of the window cautiously, holding on to the ledges and sliding her way to a flat rooftop at the other side. Her arms were shivering and threatened to release her grasp on the building at any given moment. Slowly, she made her way to the flat rooftop. It led to a window to the main hall.
Mabel opened the window and went in, using all the energy she had left to run towards the front door. She knew she needed to get out of this place. If she got caught, she may end up like the boy in the basement.
As she reached for the doorknob, she heard someone barking orders.
"Do not let her escape!"
It was the man. Many if the servants in the house ran after her. Chasing the little girl.
Mabel continued running out into the field.
Once she crossed the fence, all will be well. It was just a 100 metres away.
She ran, her legs starting to strain.
90 metres...
She could hear the pack of people behind her, all with one common goal, to capture her.
80 metres...
Mabel thought about the boy she saw. She didn't see his face before but could have sworn it looked familiar...
70 metres...
He looked like...she couldn't tell. It was like she met him before...but she haven't...
60 metres...
A knife zoomed passed her ear. They were close, aiming weapons at her in hopes of hitting her and slowing her down.
50 metres...
Mabel could see the fence from where she was, a lone wall under the moonlight.
40 metres...
Almost there...just a little more.
30 metres...
She wanted to stop. Her legs were aching badly.
20 metres...
Almost there, so close the freedom...
10 metres...
A knife grazed passed her leg, scraping off the skin. She stumbled but didn't stop running.
1 metre...
She used the energy she picked up while running and jumped over the fence and landed on her palms and legs. Even if her pursuers was separated from her by a wall, she wasn't safe yet.
She ran, though a little slower, limping because of her leg. She can feel warm blood dripping down her leg and staining her sock a bright red.
She didn't have to run for long before stumbling onto an apartment. She ran up, breathless and light-headed, close to tears and in pain.
"My, my, what happened to you, little girl?" a woman answered the door and gasped in surprise when she saw Mabel.
"Aren't you Miss Gleeful?" a man appeared behind the woman, "what brings you here?"
"Oh goodness, Arnold, can't you see she's injured? Get the first aid kit."
"W-Wait! A b-boy, he-he is i-injured...b-blood everywhere, y-you need t-to help!!" Mabel choked out in between gasps for air, leaning on the woman's arms for support as she catch her breath.
"W-Well, come in, we'll see what we can do," the woman helped Mabel in and onto the couch.
"P-Please h-help, he v-very injured," Mabel urged. She didn't know much about medical health but she was old enough to know that a hit to the head wasn't at all healthy.
"Okay, dear, where is he?"
"M-My house, b-basement...F-Father keeps h-him l-locked up," Mabel replied urgently, frustrated at how slow the woman was but relived to have a chance to rest her legs.
Arnold and the woman exchanged a glance.
"What the hell, it sounds serious," Arnold said and picked up his landline. As he conversed with the person on the other end of the line, the woman bandaged up Mabel's leg.
"They are sending medical help to the manor right now, along with a few officers," Arnold announced, "let's hope this little girl isn't lying."
"Arnold! Look at her, she's injured and looked like she ran through a jungle! I don't think she's lying," the woman scolded.
"Okay, okay, fine."
"Dear, you feeling better?" the woman returned to Mabel.
Mabel wasn't relaxed yet, she couldn't get the image of the boy out of her mind. He looked like someone...he looked like...her...
Who was he? With similar brown eyes, chocolate brown hair, he may as well be her twin brother. But she was the only child, at least, that was what she was told.
"Relax, honey, you're safe here," the woman comforted, "My name is Rosabeth, you can call me Rose. What's your name?"
"G-Gleeful, Mabel Gleeful," replied Mabel, her mind still worried that the crazy man will break in through the door and hit her over the head too.
It's okay, you're safe...for now...