Run

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Summary

For the last 12 years, Aria Blackwell has lived in a nightmare, but it all suddenly changes because of a stranger in the woods. TW&CW: This story talks about a lot of very dark and sensitive topics. If you are triggered by abuse, assault or death, please do not read this story.

Genre:
Drama / Romance
Author:
Vi_Hamilton
Status:
Complete
Chapters:
41
Rating:
4.6 13 reviews
Age Rating:
18+

Chapter 1

TW&CW: This story is about a lot of very dark and sensitive topics. If you are triggered by abuse, assault or death, please do not read this story.


Don’t think about it. My heart started to beat faster, I cover my face with my hands trying to stay quiet. My knees give up on me and I finally collapse onto the concrete. Don’t scream. I keep my lips pressed together and try to push back the voices.

Ana told me to think about happy things, but, it doesn’t work. Nothing really works, they’ll always yell at me. I hear the voice get louder and cover my ears. “Please,” I beg “Stop it.”

The door swings back and forth before finally hitting the wall, the moonlight comes through the window casting shadows throughout the shed. The shadows look like they are monsters crawling towards me. The door stopped swinging and I could see the mansion.

A knot slowly forms in my throat as I notice the light still on. There is another bang from the woods. What are they doing out there? I look at the ceiling of the shed, then back to the mansion, it’s eerily quiet now.

I smooth my hands up and down my legs. I’m okay. As long as I stay quiet, he won’t come down. My watch makes a faint clicking sound, which meant it was one am. Why is he still working? Doesn’t he ever sleep?

I sit in the doorway, not taking my eyes off of the room. How can someone like him be able to live in a house like that? It’s not fair. Why does he get to sleep inside of the home and I have to sleep outside?

My hands start shaking again. Oh no. Don’t think about it. It comes down like rain. I start to pant, trying to catch my breath. I try to calm myself down, but it was beyond that now. It feels like I’m being torn apart.

Accidentally, I let out a cry, then slap my hand over my mouth. His shadow slowly moves to the large window. I kick the door closed and hide from the light. Please god no.

Silence again, that’s a good sign, but it was broken again by my screaming. My head is throbbing. I can’t keep myself quiet. I can’t do this. My eyes fill up with tears, I close my eyes. This isn’t fair. “He’s going to kill me, please stop.” I beg.

A trail of lights started to switch on inside of the mansion. Oh no, I force myself to get up and I fall onto my bed. I close my eyes tightly and bury my face into the pillow.

The loud slam of the back door confirmed he heard me. My lips quiver, I pull the blanket over my shoulders, praying he would just walk away. Please go away.

He pulled open my door. I froze in my bed. It was like he could hear my thoughts as he digs his nails into my arm. I hesitantly look at him, the moon barely showed his face but I could tell he was furious.

“Get up,” I can’t. He drags me out of the bed, “I said get up.”

He forced me outside and onto the grass. I tried to turn onto my stomach to block his blow as he struck me across the face. He snapped his leg into my stomach, then picked me up again, “Make another sound and I’ll rip your tongue out, got it?!”

“Yes,” I nod, “It won’t happen again.”

"It won’t,” He warns then dropped me again. He storms away. I sit up as the back door slams, the ground felt like it was shaking from how hard he slammed it.

I touch the blood as it stains my pale face. That man is my father.

Charles Blackwell. As long as I can remember, he has hurt me. I make myself get up, and as quickly as the lights turned on they were off. I lean on the cobblestone walls of the shed trying to catch my breath. I turn back to go inside, then noticed a pair of eyes staring at me from the woods.

Who is that? The rain suddenly comes down, “Shit,” I cover my head and go back inside of the shed. I close the door, at least the rain isn’t coming in through the window. It was troubling that my anxiety disappeared after he hurts me.

Maybe it’s also afraid of him.

-*-

I roll onto my side and hold onto my stomach. Everything is so sore. God, why today? “Aria,” I open my eyes to see Ana staring down at me. I sit up, rubbing my stomach. “What happened to your face?” She touches my cheek. I ignore her rolling my sleeves down.

“W-What time is I-it?” I yawn.

She huffs. “Almost seven. You’re late, darling,” I face her with wide eyes and throw myself out of bed. Ana watches me fix up my shirt, then pull on my poorly-held together shoes. I tie my hair back as best I could as I run to the back doors. I scrape my shoes against the mat, walking to the kitchen.

Where is that stupid apron? Anna-Maria throws it at me, I tie it up around my hips. Why do I keep screwing up? “You’re late,” Mary remarks kicking the back of my legs, “You’re going to get into trouble.”

Her laugh echoed even when she left the room. I pick up the caddy, then the tray full of food, I look at it carefully, trying to see if there was something wrong with it. God, I’m so late. I give up, then walk to the stairs.

Of course, I didn’t mean to wake up late, but god forbid I don’t meet his unreasonable expectations. I could have my leg sawed off in the middle of the night and he would yell at me for not moving fast enough or having dirty floors. I go up the stairs and then down the empty hallway.

My arms are already sore from holding this stuff. Why am I so weak? I try to knock on the door, but I don’t have enough hands.

I just open the door and walk into his room. I freeze. A woman barely dressed, glares at me then faced the bathroom, “Charlie.”

I throw my caddy outside and gulp “Don’t, please don’t,” I put the tray down on his table. The bathroom door opens, he looked at her confused, then noticed me trying to leave. I stare back at him for a moment before leaving quickly

He was furious.

I close the door, picking up the caddy again. What have I done? I paced quickly down the hall. My hand clenches around the handle as I hear him follow me. He was staunching behind me cursing my name under his breath. I turn around, “I’m so sorry--”

He holds the side of my face and pushed me into the wall, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He gets closer to my face. His eyes get darker, “Are you out of your goddamn mind? What were you thinking?”

“I-t was a-an accident, I s-swear I didn’t--”

He slams his hands against the wall. I gulp and snap my mouth shut. “You’re always sorry,” He snapped. He tugs at my hair, forcing me to face him. He’s so angry at me, “If you ever do that again, I’m locking you inside a closet, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, s-sir.” He rolls his eyes, pushing himself off of the wall and walking away. When the door slammed, I finally moved. I look down at my arms, seeing a bruise already form. I didn’t realize he was gripping my arm so tight. I hide the cleaning supplies underneath a table and go downstairs. I ran as fast as I could towards the back door, I look at the shed, but go past it to the woods.

I climb over the barbed fence, yanking my skirt off of the hooks and running into the woods. I glance back at the mansion as I push back the leaves and go further into the darkness.

My knees give up on me and I fall onto the grass. I stare at the dirt, then at the trees as the wind rips through them. It sounded like laughter.

It was like they were laughing at me, or maybe they’re screaming at me. I sit on my knees and punch the ground. Why does he have to be so awful to me?

My skirt was torn and now covered in dirt. I look at myself, then roll my eyes. If he found out I came here, he’d bury me alive. I know I’m supposed to be doing my chores, but I just needed a second to breathe. He has always been like this, he once cut open my lips because I interrupted him. And he burned my hands with an iron.

I run my finger over the burns on my hand sighing. He makes me feel so, pathetic and unimportant. “Death would be less painful,” I whisper.

“Don’t be so sure,” A voice says.

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