Rising Above: Super Story

Chapter 11(Imelda's POV): The Distraction

Father was going to kill me. Bring me to life. Then kill me again. I was stupid and let my heart lead my actions. Ryder was gone with Harlow and I was alone... with my father. He called me into the dining room. He was looking at the dead body on the floor, Merrick's dead body. His eyes still open and the blood all over the marble floor. His pockets were all turned out and he still had a look of shock on his face. I sat next to him and closed his eyes. There was no need for him to keep them open anymore; he could now rest. My father threw anything he could get his hands on. "WHERE IS IT!"he screamed. 

I kept my head down like an obedient child as the maids ran around the entire fortress looking for the hard drive. My brother had it now and he was long gone. I looked up. Now I wish I hadn't. He slowly turned towards me, first body then head. Well Shit. "You. Had. Something. To. Do. With. This."he growled. "Father, I don't know where it went. I had no part in this." I begged him but I knew it would be no use. 

His power you may ask? Pain Illusion. It was like a searing hot branding iron was being shoved down your throat and like your body was going to explode from the pain. I could only scream. 

Tears came down from my eyes and I couldn't control his nightmares. I could only feel something else. I felt the fear of losing the drive. What on it could have been so important that even he was afraid. Fear was not one of my fathers looks. He released me from the pain and I laid doubled over on the floor next to the dead body. "If I could maim you and rip your skin from your body I would. You are lucky you are needed on this base otherwise I would have a reason to dispose of you like I did to your mother. You're a worthless, stupid, ignorant, ugly, and weak excuse of a child." he spit this out and his fist clenched. He punched me not once but multiple times. His punches grew stronger with anger's lust. It had a hold of him. 

My mother died like this and I'm guessing I would too. He kicked me in my stomach and I doubled over again. I could barely breathe and when I touched my lip it was split open and my nose was a bloody mess. He walked out of the room, my blood on his fists. 

No one was allowed to help me or Ryder when he did this. He forbade it. If someone helped us we owed them and we would be weak for needing someone's help. My mother was considered weak. Our father made us watch her punishments and she would cry and beg for us to help her but her pleas would be ignored. If we intervened we would have gotten something far worse.

 One day as he was attacking her, her head snapped back and her eyes latched on to me and my brother and she took her final breath. Me and Ryder were only 13 and 11. 

I looked at my tattoo. Harlow noticed it. She looked at it like she knew where it came from or that she knew someone who had a similar tattoo. I don't remember getting it but just waking up one day with it on my hand. It was a crow. Crows looked after one another and would never forget. Then why couldn't I remember? It seemed silly now. I knew it had a meaning and there must be something I've missed. The crow was covered in my blood now. My nose broken and I felt a searing pain. I must have a few bruised ribs.

I slowly got up. My legs wobbled and I slowly stood up. I couldn't walk and the pain in my side confirmed some ribs were bruised. I called on the shadows and left in the darkness. Whatever my brother is doing and wherever he is I hope it will be better than what I just went through.