Ambrosia Mafia

Chapter 5

Azura

My Father gripped my hair throwing my body to the floor. "What have I told you about speaking up?" His voice, full of disgust as he looked down at me like I was trash and not his daughter.

His dark brown almost black matted hair dragged over his brows. His dark brown eyes, full of hate. Body taunt like stone.

No no no.

I couldn't speak.

I couldn't plea for my life.

All I did was take the hits as my mind screamed and pleaded but no sound left my body. My mind and soul breaking over and over again as someone who I'm meant to look up to beat me half to death.

It can't be real cause this nightmare kept fading then coming back. The real kicker is that as soon as I enter that hell hole of an office it feels like the first time I walked in like I haven't witnessed my father abuse me a thousand times over already.

All I know is one minute I'm being carried out from where I was tortured for weeks on end to being trapped in this place of torture.

As I kept screaming I heard a muffled voice trying to talk to me, to sooth me?

I felt a ghost of a hand drifting over my face, then a small beeping sound flooded my ears and the voice got louder.

It must have been my brain playing tricks on me again when my father would soothe me through the nightmares when I was young. But the voice was too light to be my fathers, too warm and safe.

I knew that voice. A voice from the past.

I'm definitely still dreaming.

"Azura, please wake up." The voice whispered. "You are safe. That psychopath of a father that raised us can't hurt you here."

That voice belonged to my brother.

Yep I'm dreaming. My brother died alongside my mother.

I try to open my eyes again and it works a bit. So I try again and again till the room comes into focus.

The walls were a light grey colour, there was a chest of draws near an open door where I can see a man with his hands braced on the sink.

His features were a bit blurry from where I was but familiar. The dark chestnut hair, the olive colour skin, and the frame a bit bigger than what I remembered but, no it can't be. I'm seeing things.

Mikel Harper, my older brother, is dead. He's not here. I saw the wreckage, there was no way he could have survived it.

I scanned the rest of the room. All the things any rich person would fill their bedrooms with there was. Tv, a couch in the corner, a desk with a rollie chair, and a chandelier type light in the middle of the ceiling.

I groaned as the pain hit me, my head throbbed in pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, the memory flashed of what Franco did to me.

They sliced my skin open, used me as their personal punching bag. I shivered at the memory of them using me for their personal pleasure.

"Azura?" The voice was beside me startling me, I whipped my head around then regretted it as the pain radiated in my head.

I looked at the person beside me, worry etched on their face.

No fucking way.

"No." I croaked "You're dead."

Mikel was sitting on the edge of the bed with a worried expression on his face.

He slowly passed me some water which I was grateful for cause my throat was like a desert even though he is a ghost. He quickly got his phone out and tapped something in then put it away.