Venus

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I tiptoed through the front door, the key silent in the lock. Every creak of the floorboard sounded like a thunderclap in the still night. Dad hated being woken up, and I knew missing curfew would unleash his fury.

The air in our apartment hung heavy, thick with a stale mix of cheap beer and unspoken tension. It was a familiar scent, one I’d learned to associate with Dad. Living with him was like walking a tightrope over a pit of sharks – every step a gamble, every breath a prayer.

It hadn’t always been like this. Before Mom left, there was laughter in our house, the aroma of her famous spaghetti sauce, and the warmth of her love. But when she walked out, taking that light with her, Dad shattered. The once-kind man drowned his sorrow in a bottle, and the man who emerged was a stranger, his eyes filled with a cold anger that often turned towards me.

He saw Mom in me, or maybe just a target for his pain. Every bump in the night, every spilled glass, could erupt into a storm of rage. My body bore the marks of those storms – a mosaic of angry red lines that resulted from his anger.

But fear, a constant companion, was a shadow I carried.

Reaching my room, a flicker of relief felt in my chest. But it was short-lived. As I pushed the door open, the light from the living room spilled in, revealing him – sprawled on the worn-out sofa, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Relief died a swift death. I wiped my hands on my jeans and slowly turned around to look at him.

He lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of anger and intoxication.

“So you decided to grace me with your presence, finally?” His voice was a gravelly rasp, laced with venom.

Before I could stammer out an explanation, he was already on his feet, the smell of cheap cologne and stale alcohol entering my senses. He grabbed my arm, his grip like a vice. “Where the hell have you been, girl? Do you think I’m supposed to starve to death here waiting for you?”

Panic surged through me as my eyes welled up in tears because of his tight grip. It would be another stroke of paint on my body’s canvas. I looked down and a soft whisper escaped me, “Dad, your’re hurting me”

My voice must have angered him further because he seethed and grabbed my neck in a swift motion, “I asked where the fuck have you been, so answer the bloody question you bitch!” I squeezed my eyes shut and mumbled something about tutoring a student, but it was lost in the roar of his voice.

“Tutoring? Or were you out whoring around like your mother?” The word hit me like a physical blow, the sting of humiliation hot on my cheeks.

Before I could react, his fist connected with my jaw. Pain exploded in my head, the world tilting on its axis. Another blow landed on my stomach, the air out of my lungs for a solid 10 seconds. I crumpled to the floor, tears blurring my vision.

He towered over me, his face contorted in a grotesque mask of rage. But before he could strike again, a primal instinct kicked in. I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline masking the searing pain.

“Don’t you dare touch me again!” I screamed, my voice ragged and desperate. I don’t know where I got the courage to speak up, but I regretted it as soon as the words escaped my mouth.

He lunged for me, but I darted past him, making a desperate dash for the stairs. I could hear his heavy footsteps close behind, his drunken shouts echoing in the hallway.

Reaching the safety of my room, I slammed the door shut and fumbled for the lock. But it was too late. The door splintered with a sickening crack as he slammed his shoulder against it. The blood in my veins froze as I gathered my thoughts. He never took it this far, and I was scared of what he will do if he gets to me.

Fear fuelled me and I raked my brain for any route of escape. I scrambled to the window, throwing it open and ignoring the dizzying height. The cool night air whipped against my face as I climbed onto the fire escape, my body protesting with every movement. I had never been an athletic student because of my asthama, however there was no other option right now. My lungs expanded and I struggled to breath.

I looked below, and the world was a blur of lights and shadows. Without a second thought, I jumped, landing hard on the soft earth with a gasp. The pain was excruciating, but I ignored it, scrambling to my feet and running blindly into the night.

I didn’t know where I was going, just that I needed to get away. My lungs burned, my legs screamed in protest, but I pushed myself further, fuelled by the terror of being caught. A rhythmic throb of bass music grew louder, guiding me towards the flashing lights of a nearby club surrounded by dark alleys. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I should have grabbed my inhaler.

As I stumbled out of a deserted alleyway, two figures speaking to each other came in my view and I stumbled to a stop. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that New York was a safe city.

Tall and imposing, they exuded an aura of danger that made my breath hitch. Before I could turn around to the opposite direction, two other figures appeared from behind me, their eyes gleaming with predatory intent. My breath hitched, and sweat gathered around my forehead.

“Look at what we have here, boys,” one of them sneered, slowly advancing towards me. “Lost and alone?”

My blood ran cold. I knew I couldn’t fight them off. I took a shaky breath and backed into a corner. My voice came back to me, and I said, with a shaky voice “I d-don’t have any money on me, please leave me alone”

One of the guys snickered and eyed me up and down, “Who said anything about money, beautiful?”

My eyes widened as I realised what he was hinting at. My heart hammered against my chest as my breath quickened. A horrific flashback started to replay in front of my eyes

“Bend over bitch” my dad’s friend murmured as I fought my way out of his hold, screams tearing my throat. His other friends looked over and snickered. “Give her to us after you’re done” was all I heard before I felt him tearing the clothes off my body. “No..” I whimpered, my throat sore. He held my hands above my head and roughly pushed my underwear aside. A hopeless sob racked my body as he roughly pushed in. I could feel myself tearing...bleeding, but he didn’t stop. An hour later, I lay on the foot of my bed, battered and bruised. No one came to my rescue.

I violently shook my head, and pleaded again, “Please, p-please leave me alone!”

Another guy with with multiple tattoos grinned and said, “look at her begging, she would be a perfect fuck”

My heart raced in my chest and vision blurred. I was having an asthma attack and the oxygen started to escape my lungs. I clawed at my chest as a cough irrupted and I started wheezing, bending over. Just as black threatened to consume me, a cold, commanding voice sliced through the air.

“¿Qué carajo estás haciendo? Aléjate de ella antes de que te corte las manos.”

[What the fuck are you doing? Get away from her]

I felt myself heaving as my hands met the cold pavement. My vision blurred further but I turned to see the tattooed guy who just two steps away from me now, his eyes wide from terror. The fear in their eyes was palpable as they stammered apologies and melted back in the shadows.

The stranger, who’s figure was a thick blur made his way towards me. The last thing I felt before I fell into a deep slumber was a rough hand securing my waist.