Prologue
ROSALINA
Illinois, 1878
The blood oozed out of the hole in her chest that my father’s knife made. He ripped his knife out of her dying body and turned to me with a look of drunken hatred.
“Did you want some of that?” He laughed cynically. “Worthless wench, just like your mother.” I threw myself at the man that my mother married, my young, rage-filled heart wanting to kill this man for what he did to her. I put my full force into my effort to knock him over and hopefully drop the knife.
Unfortunately, my small frame did nothing of the sort, although, coincidently, my knee did connect to the place right in between his legs, which did have an effect. As he bent over, I ran over to my mother.
“Mama! Are you okay?” Her skin turned deathly pale. Even at my young age, I knew that life was draining from her body. I bent down to hold her in her last moments, but my efforts were stopped by a meaty arm yanking me back. Pain shot up my arm as I turned to face the loathsome man.
“She deserved it, you know. Whoring herself around town. Never could please a man.” He slurs and turns to me.“Maybe I should have my fun with you. See if you’re any better at satisfying a man’s urges. Maybe then I won’t kill you.” He pushed me to the ground and climbed on top of me, pinning my arms to my sides.
I know now, and probably knew then, that what I did next could have sentenced me to the same fate that my mother suffered, but I didn’t care. I spit right into that awful man’s eye, with no regrets.
“I would rather die.“I forced the words through the fear and hatred in my throat.
He wiped the spit the spit from his eye and looked at my thirteen year old face with distaste.
“I can make that happen.“He sneers as he rips the knife out of my mother’s corpse and turns back to me.
“Your turn.”
The satisfaction in his gaze chills me down to my toes. I started struggling in his grip, throwing the little bit of weight that I had around. It had no effect on him. He lifted the knife and aimed for my heart. As he brought the knife down, I started trying to kick him, but sitting on my legs, as he was, it did nothing more than jostle him. The knife paused midway through the air above my heart.
“Maybe just one last kiss.”
All of a sudden, his lips were over mine, about to descend. He was almost there when I threw my head forward, making contact with his forehead, stunning him enough to drop the knife.
“You little bitch!”
He screamed at me and it vibrated in my pounding head.
He picked up the knife again and turned back to me. He smiled at me, and it turned my blood to ice.
“You will never be able to kill me.”
I stated, looking him in the eye.His smile dropped from his face at my words and then reappeared just as fast.
“That’s alright, little girl, I’ll just make you so ugly that you wish you were dead.”
He turned my head to the side and aimed for my ear. He brought the knife down, and I started struggling in his grip. As a result, he carved into my skin behind my ear. He started carving downwards as I tried to fight him. When he reached the neckline of my dress, he turned to me again and smiled at the terror in my eyes. He reached down and ripped open my dress as my arms fought against the weight that pinned them down.
My dress was torn along the side, showing from my shoulder down to my mid thigh. His grin grew malicious, and he dug deeper into my skin as he kept dragging the knife down my body. Tears leaked into my eyes from the pain and fear.
“Scream. Call for someone. No one is going to help you. You’re worthless.”
I felt like screaming but would not give him the satisfaction. His knife kept traveling lower and lower, eventually passing my waistline and getting closer to the center of me.
I heard a slight whisper of a sound coming from outside the house. Gunfire sounded, and bullets shot through the windows, shattering the glass. My mother’s husband threw himself to the side in an effort to avoid the bullets. In doing so, he freed my hands and feet.
I scrambled up from the floor and made it three steps before a hand at my ankle tugged me down to the floor again. I started kicking at anything I could to get away from him. My foot found his face a few times, causing him to loosen his grip. I shot up from the floor and ran for the back door. The shooting outside continued as I opened the door and stepped out into the night.
And then I ran.
852 words
