When Storms Collide

~4~

You can't cling on to the past, because no matter how tightly you hold on, it's already gone.

~~

The door slammed.

I could hear him enter the house.

"Please be sober. Please be sober." I silently prayed.

The sound of stumbling footsteps and slurred muttering ensued.

"Angelica, you bitch! Get down here!" his voice bellowed.

My heart sank.

"Don't make me come up there!" he warned.

I swallowed down the dread I was feeling and squared my shoulders. My chest rose as I took a deep breath. My legs felt like jelly as I finally made my way downstairs.

"I'm here." I forced my voice to sound even.

His lips turned up into a sneer as his eyes landed on me. I eyed the glass of scotch in his hand warily.

"I told you to clean the fucking house!" he barked.

I suppressed the urge to flinch.

I couldn't show this bastard that I was afraid of him. I wouldn't give his sadistic mind that satisfaction.

"I did," I responded, not breaking eye contact.

"Then why can't I see it?" he demanded.

My eyes narrowed in irritation. "Maybe because you're drunk out of your goddamn mind and you can't see straight?" I snapped.

The glass of scotch he'd been holding in his hand suddenly crashed into the wall behind me, missing my head by mere centimeters.

I screamed.

"How dare you disrespect me! After all, I've done for you and your whore mother!"

He was coming at me, fist raised.

I knew he was going to hurt me.

I needed to run, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed.

I jolted up in bed. My breaths came in short gasps.

Dream. It was only a dream.

I took in the unfamiliar surroundings, but as the panic fogged my mind started to clear, I relaxed.

I was safe. He couldn't hurt me here.

There was a loud thud, and I yelped in surprise.

I realized that it was the same noise that had woken me up.

I got out of bed and tiptoed outside the room. The fireplace poker clutched in my hand was my only weapon. It was dark, but I didn't bother turning on the lights. The moonlight shone through the large window in the lounge. I could make out the silhouette of a man sitting on the sofa. My heartbeat escalated.

"Who are you?" I managed to speak up.

"Don't be afraid. It's only me."

My shoulders relaxed in relief as I recognized Sebastian's voice. I put the poker stick down.

"Did I wake you? I apologize." He spoke softly, but something about his voice was off. It sounded almost strained. Something was wrong.

My footsteps were hesitant as I approached him.