Torment (age regression)

Chapter 1 (sneakpeak)

Warning: this book could contain triggering content.

**

"Daddy, no please, stop!" Sixteen year old Camila cries out as she cowers in the corner of the room, her arms up and protecting her face as violent pummels from her dads fist repeatedly get thrown her way.

This was her second beating of the night and the young girl didn't even know what she had done wrong. She never knew what she did wrong. It just kept on happening.

"Move your arms Karla!" Her dad demands gruffly, halting the punches for a second as he attempts to pull his daughters arms away from her face.

The cowering sixteen year old tries to fight him as she uses all her might to allow her arm to remain in its place, but as her dad was twice the size of her in both height and weight, he removes her arms with no effort whatsoever and continues with his unprovoked beating.

There was absolutely no remorse on his face and that made Camila all the more scared of what was to come.

"You need to learn your place here young lady. You only get food when I say you get food. You don't go behind my back!" He yells, his punches, if possible, growing harder and harder.

They were being directed everywhere else now, not just her face. Her frail, stick thin body shook heavily as she sobs, but all her dad did was obliviously ignore her.

Her face, which was by now severely bruised and bleeding, had tears streaming down it, the salty tears mixing with the blood causing a light red line of liquid to trickle down her jawline to her neck.

She was in so much pain and she wishes everything would just stop.

*

Lauren sighs heavily as she yet again comes to a stop. LA traffic was the worst, she thinks to herself irritably as she glares at the car in front of her; letting her eyes roll when the third person this afternoon beeps their horn behind her.

She hated traffic at the best of times, never mind when when it was rush hour and every single car was fighting each other to get home like it was some sort of race.

Deciding that she wasn't moving anytime soon, the twenty four year old woman grabs her phone from the passenger seat and checks for any notifications.

Might as well pass the time somehow.

*

Camila was shocked awake by a door slamming loudly; a usual occurrence that happens most days that told her her dad was leaving to who knows where for the night. She tentatively gets up from the mattress on the floor and peaks out the window, ignoring the way her face aches as she lets out the tiniest of smiles.

He was gone, finally.

She rummages through her practically empty closet and grabs an old backpack that she once used for school. She stuffs it with the only possessions she has; another set of clothes, an old stuffed animal and a photograph of her mom.

Once everything was safely put away, the young girl hooks the bag onto her back and quietly makes her way out of her room and down the stairs.

Despite the fact she knew her dad was gone and couldn't hurt her again tonight, her body still trembled in fear at every sound she heard. It was almost as if she was expecting him to just jump right out and get her.

She makes it to the door easily, but was soon stopped when she tugs on it and finds it locked. She tugs again, and again but the same thing happens leaving her almost in tears for the third time tonight.

Remembering the back door, the young girl limps to the very back of the house and sighs in relief when the door this time, opens, allowing her to walk out into the darkness of the night.

Normally, the dark would scare her, but right now she had more important things to be worried about. She wasn't going to let some silly fear get in the way of finally being able to leave a lifetime of torture.

She had to get away. But where? She had absolutely no idea.

**

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