Epics of Noche 2, DeathTech

EON CH 21

JUNE'S FREEDOM.

1773.

June's hand rested on her stomach. She had finally become a teenager, but it didn't matter. Her eyes lingered beyond the kitchen's walls — it had been a year since that incident. They watered at the memory of that day. When the pregnancy test showed positive.

Her fist tightened over her abdomen. The bruise was long gone, but she could still feel it. The impact of his knuckles. She didn't need the following tests to say negative. The pain, and size of the blood clot in the toilet, was more than enough evidence.

June miscarried.

Yet Albert made her take at least a dozen more after his solution.

June bit her lip. She should have never told him... He would've figured out anyways. Her eyes drifted to the window. She wanted wings. She wanted to fly away.

A bang widened her eyes — an explosion of red occurred in the sky. Feathers fell from the crimson mist and June's face went green as she turned away. She suppressed the urge to vomit, focusing instead on the smell of burnt bacon coming from the stove.

Another bang occurred from the frying pan.

"Grease. Popping grease," she thought. "Not the shotgun... It's only grease."

A few deep breaths later, she regained her calm; June chuckled.

"Fly away? I can't fly away from him," she frowned. "I'd be red mist — just like that bird."

The red mist became a red splotch in the toilet. June shot to her feet, ran to a trash can, and vomited.

Meanwhile, Albert took another swig from the whisky bottle. Dark smoke rose from the black bacon.  He grinned — until a dollop of scalding oil splashed onto his hand.

Albert grit his teeth and threw the bottle against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces above Kat. She screamed and raised her soap-covered hand to block the shower of booze and shards.

"QUIET!" He shouted.

Kat whimpered and backed away from the sink. One of Albert's eyes narrowed.

"Annnds wshere do'shya think yers going?"

"I-I finished the dishes."

"Shos ya thinks that means you can leaves me?" He slurred. "Jush like yur mutherh!"

Kat's eyes widened. Her mouth stammered opened and closed, but she never spoke. Her eyes flickered to her sister who was still throwing up in the trash can's corner. A hot droplet snapped her head back to Albert — a cast iron skillet, full of popping oil, was being directed at her face.

"The dum bitch," he sneered.

"D-Don't talk about mom like that!" Kat screamed.

She trembled as her little fists balled tight. Albert's perplexed face revealed how long it was taking him to process the girl's comment. The expression changed in an instant — he swung the frying pan at the child.

Boiling oil and burnt bacon splashed over Kat's entire face a split second before thick metal did. She fell to the floor screaming.

"RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!"

Albert got on top of the little girl and held her shoulders down. She flailed in every direction — screaming more than she had ever screamed before in her life. He lifted her up and slammed her into the tile. Her head hit the floor over and over as he shouted.