She dreamed that night, and it wasn't pleasant. She could smell the bleach that painted her father's hospital room as he lay with so many beeping machines, it was so noisy it drove her crazy. Harmony had been the one holding his hand when he stopped breathing, she was only 8 years old. She hadn't been old enough to know him for who he was, and her mother would never speak of him because it was too painful for her to do so. She should have been sad, maybe even angry, but it was so long ago she hardly remembered what he looked like. How can you miss something you don't remember what it was like to have?
Three years later had been when her mother fell into the shining arms of her charming. Her stepfather, Blane, was kind to her. He used to buy her toys and dolls, and even help her with her homework when it became too hard, he would take her shopping for new clothes every year before school started so she would look her finest. But, her favourite thing he did was every time he gave her a little rub on the head when he was proud of her, that little pat meant so much to her.But, not everything was always green and blue.
Blane had a problem with alcohol, it wasn't uncommon for Harmony to come home from school and find him lying on the floor, passed out in the living room with his fingers still clung to an empty bottle of something. His speech was misunderstand-able when he was drunk, full of slurring as he stumbled through doorways and rooms like the world was spinning around him, or maybe he was spinning around the world, she didn't know. It made her upset watching it, but she could handle it. even in his state of intoxication he never got angry at her, he never struck her, or her mother. He was a happy drunk, all things considered, and in the long run Harmony still considered him a good father, although that might have been because he was the only one she could remember.
Life could have been good, at least not as bad as it was, if he hadn't been there. He looked so normal, he had acted so friendly, smiling at her with those bright white teeth. He was the definition of a twisted person, showing one face to the world while keeping another hidden deep inside himself, and the only time he ever let that shadow show was with her, in the dark of night when the world fell asleep around them. She twitched in sleep at the sight of his eyes within her peripheral, a creak through the night like a ghost that never left, blistering its treacherous haunt of the innocent.
"Hey, Harmony. Do you want to play a game?" He had asked her that so many times, the line now made her physically ill.
But, the first time, she had been the one that felt like a devil, being bad for staying up late past her bedtime. She had nodded vigorously to his smiling face, watching as he shut her bedroom door behind him, and the tiny click of the lock. He sat down on the edge of her bed, his features half-shadowed by the moonlight radiating from her bedroom window
"How about we play trivia" he whispered, pulling a single finger up to his lips, his gesture to ensure she kept quiet."But, why don't we play it differently"
"Differently?" she had asked, leaning forward slightly, letting her duvet bundle across her small child hips
"Yes...differently..." he spoke, inching just the slightest bit closer. It almost seemed like a creep, with every move, a barrier that once held shattered
"But, every time you get the answer wrong...you have to remove a piece of clothing" The young girl's brow raised, glancing down at her pink nightgown covered in small purple horses. Somehow even at that age, the thought of removing her clothes in front of him had felt uncomfortable. She didn't want to do it, and she was quick to shake her head in refusal. She wanted to play the normal way, not this strange way he had suddenly come up with. He just sighed in response, looking like his patience was starting to thin. His eyes darkened with dissatisfaction, and her small hands clenched at the edge of her blanket inherently from building fear.
"The game is really easy!-" he insisted "Don't you trust me Harmony? I'm your brother, you're supposed to trust me" he encouraged eagerly, shifting even closer.
"Look, I'll show you...it's easy" he assured her concern. She watched with wide, inquisitive eyes as he pulled his shirt over her head, tossing it on the floor next to her bed. "See! super easy!" he whispered insistently. He reached for her shoulder suddenly, pushing her to lean back in the bed, pressing her head on the pillow.
She wanted to flee, and was about to scream when he forced his hand over her mouth, cutting the noise short. A light in the hallway flicked on abruptly, she could see it filter in the gap below her bedroom door. Her heart raced, eyes wide and dilated. He was so much bigger than her, she was no match for him. Someone had stepped into the washroom just across the hall from her bedroom, washing their hands in the sink. Her eyes flicked to him, looming over her like a demon, eyes set directly on her. He leaned forward, breath wetting her ear as he spoke
"Stay quiet Harmony-" he whispered, his voice sinister "You don't want to bother Mom and Dad, do you? you know how mad they get when you wake them up" his breath disgusted her, clicking a tease within her ear.
The bathroom light shut off and the footsteps receded into the night, finalized with the shut of a door down the hall. He pulled his hand from her mouth, she could have screamed, she should have. But, she didn't want Mom to be mad at her for waking them, just like he had said. He had cooed to her as she silently cried, tears sliding across her cheeks and sopping into the pillow beneath. He loomed over her with that wicked face that would forever be burned within the back of her mind. No matter how long it would be, how old she would get, that face would bring her back to when she was just an innocent child, silently crying for her mother's aid as her innocence was stripped away
YOU ARE READING
His Angel
Romance"You have a name, don't you?" his voice was deep and irritable, but rather calm. Her eyes lifted just slightly, now staring at the edges of dark hair that hung an inch or two from his shoulders. Her lack of answer seemed to annoy him further, she co...
