Fate likes to play games with me. It always had. Sometimes, I ask myself— why in the hell does everything bad happens to me? Like if there were nobody else with bad luck. Fate is the culprit for such misfortune.
Just look at me...here freshly beaten, laying on my old mattress, looking up at the peeling white ceiling.
"What has my life become?" I whispered low enough, not wanting to make a single sound. To not alert the monsters downstairs.
You know once upon a time, life was great for me. No worries, no drugs, no rape, No violence, no pain or sorrow just happiness....just —pure happiness.
But like the old saying goes: where there's happiness—There must be sadness and sorrow to keep it company.
And undoubtedly it is true.
You may be rich one day and then the next day, lose it all.
Alive today— dead tomorrow.
It's a matter of when, where and why.
It's like the butterfly effect. A single flap can create a storm or a hurricane somewhere else.
Fate is funny sometimes, isn't it?
"Bang bang bang, open the damn door, I know you druggys are in there " A familiar voice shouted banging the front door. It was nothing new to me. It's like a routine, every month.
The landlord comes banging at the front door for a few minutes asking for rent money—and a little favor from my mother, then he leaves.
There is no point, in telling you the little favors that he asks from my mother every month— you can already imagine by now. Life has not been a nice ride, but I'm still alive and that is all that matters ...right?
Right? Does it really matter?... Maybe
"Open the damn door ", he keeps banging and banging and banging, it was starting to drive me crazy.
Then the banging finally stops.
After a few minutes— a terrifying scream goes ripping inside the house.
Not gonna lie, but...I almost pee myself for that scream. It was like a dying animal just...trying to stop the enemy from eating him alive.
The beating that they gave me was a painful one. Slowly getting off the mattress that is on the floor, I walked very slowly to the door, trying not to make a sound.
Opening it and walking down the hallway as quietly as possible— stopping at the top of the stairs. You can still hear the ear-piercing scream.
"Please don't kill me, PLEASE!! "And what I saw made my heart stop. My stepfather was stabbing the landlord with a broken bottle repeatedly over and over again.
The wounded man on the floor was trying to get up but the blood oozing out of his stomach was making it difficult to move.
The landlord looked so terrified— at what was happening to him. Shook, horror, and regret were all at once displayed on his face.
Gasping at the scene before me. My heart was pounding harder in my chest, making my breathing difficult —like a fish without water.
His tearing eyes...lands on me.
My body paralyzed on the spot, not moving a single muscle. Trying to look away from those blue eyes that pleaded for my help but I just couldn't move. It was like my foot was glued to the damn floor.
How can I fight with such a huge guy like him? It is absolutely impossible. It will be only asking the angels to reschedule an early appointment with God.
The blue eyes that once held life in them are now gone. A cold blank look stared back at me. One last tear slid down the side of his face.
The bloody man on top of him was laughing hysterically...my stepfather looked like a mad man.
Then another laugh is heard and it was my mother. Both looked like demons bathing in blood.
You can instantly realize that there both out of it. The drug and alcohol were clouding their weak minds.
Not even God can save them now.
"There's the favor you asked me for so many years...Did you like it, you dirty Old perv, hahaha hahaha ha hahaha" my mother laughs —while looking down at the dead body laying on the floor. Blood was still oozing out of the wounded area and scattering onto the wooden floor.
Instantly, both their eyes were on me. Their smile grows wider and much more sinister by the second. As if they found their reason for such... monstrosity. Their eyes held amusement and complete hatred.
"Look, who came out to play with us " he stands up straight with the broken glass bottle still in his right hand.
Oh my God, This can't be happening right now, my body can't move.NO NO NO NO NO I'm paralyzed.
"Come down, let's play a little game. My sweet–sweet Emma ". He demanded in a low raspy voice, smiling up at me. I don't move a single muscle.
"Come down now! We just want to play Emma, don't you love mommy" she hissed. while she stares at me with amusement.
"Do you want to end up like that pig on the floor Emma?"She points at the lifeless body on the floor.
" Or do you want to play a game with us, little Emma?!" She irritably shouted. She was becoming more impatient by the seconds that go by— Her once beautiful blue eyes, are bloodshot red.
I make myself downstair observing them carefully. They are people to not be messed with, they don't know what was guilt or the feeling of it.
Both of them enjoy hurting the weak and innocent. For them it was better than drugs and alcohol—they were the real pigs. They found satisfaction in people's misery. They were monsters disguised as harmless sheep's.
Now standing in front of them like a Little rabbit in front of two dangerous crazy looking hyenas.
I mentally prepare myself for what is about to go down at this moment—hoping I don't end up like that guy on the floor.
"Let's play, Little Emma" She taps her chin with her finger thinking about, what she can do to hurt me.
"How about, how long can you stay in the dark". She rejoiced while grabbing me from my brown curly hair and dragging me toward the basement door— that was down the hall.
Struggling to get myself away from her hard grip on my hair. It was useless, I was only hurting myself more instead.
"Stop struggling, you little dumb bitch!" she demanded as she keeps dragging me down the hall.
"Please you don't have to do this, please don't put me down there again, I won't tell anyone. please mother! "I shouted loudly, tear sliding down my face while trying to keep myself on my two feet.
She was taller and stronger than me. Before all this— she was a nice person, caring and loving but now... she's the complete opposite of what she used to be.
Now she is a cold-hearted, remorseless monster that only feeds on other people's fears. She enjoys seeing me in dismay. Seeing the hope in my eyes crush over and over again— until there's nothing there.
Now be a good little girl and stay down there, okay. My Sweet little Emma "she pushes me down the flights of the basement stairs. When my body hit the cold floor. The last thing, I can hear is a pair of laughter from upstairs. Then it was lights out for me.