His Snowflake

Chapter 4 -Circuit

"Silly me, thinking I was good enough."

-Unknown

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Alana's POV

"I'm...sorry...I won't...won't do...it...again..." I blurted out in fear, hoping that apology will make him stop. Once again the whip strikes my back and I could feel my skin tearing apart.

"What. Did. I. Say? How could you not listen! I clearly told you stay away from attention and LAY LOW! How hard is that?" My father bellowed as the whip cracked against my back again.

Please make it stop. Please. All I could hope for was that this punishment ended soon. I felt like I was on the verge of dying. I wished I laid low, I should have done things differently.

My father left me on the cold, hard floor and walked towards what seemed to be the direction of the kitchen. My brain was all fuzzy and my vision was blurring. Tears stained my face as I tried to see my wounds in the mirror at the corner the living room. From the corner of my eye, I saw all that my white dress was stained red with all my blood.

Crash! My father walked out of the kitchen, holding a beer bottle in one hand and the whip in the other. He chugged down the remaining beer that I assumed he had left after drinking in the kitchen. As he drank the beer, I was terrified of the sound of him chugging down the alcohol.

"You piece of shit! Always messing things up and trying to defy whatever I say. First my wife and now? You try to seduce Trevor Knight? YOU WHORE!" My father snapped.

I was trembling in fear as he said all that. I mumbled countless apologies as he slowly walked over towards me. Each step he took was threatening. I cowered in fear and hugged myself in the corner of the living room. Mum, please...are you there? Please help me...

I knew calling for help will never work. The walls of this house were all soundproofed and everyone around this neighbourhood couldn't care less. Even though there was one maid in the house, she was unable to do anything to help me except dress my wounds occasionally because my father had threatened to hurt her family.

My father came over and raised the beer bottle, seemingly aiming at my face. I cover my face in my hands as he throws it at me. All the shattered glass pieces scatter everywhere, cutting me in every possible exposed place. Most of the glass shards cut my arms and legs but the pain never came. I was just numb at this point.

My father mumbled some words of anger and he stormed back to the room.

I forced myself down the stairs to head to the basement where my room was. Ever since mum died, I was thrown in here by my father to punish me (mostly where my fear of the dark came from). I glanced at the family picture of me, my mum and my father that I brought down from my room upstairs. The longer I gazed at it, the more the ache in my heart increased. I shook my head and entered the bathroom down here to shower.

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When I entered the bathroom, I took out my first aid kit. I used the tweezers to take out all the glass shards. I disinfected all my wounds, trying my best to reach all of the wounds on my back. I could not even describe the pain. After all that, I went to shower.

This all felt like a circuit. I get beaten, go wash myself up then sleep. It was just on repeat, a circuit with no end.

As I showered, I tried to recall all the memories I had with my dad and mum before mum died. My memory was a bit hazy now that it's been more than years already. I faintly remember a time when we went on a picnic and my mother was setting up the food and my father was playing ball with me. I slightly smiled while recalling that, temporarily forgetting all the pain I was feeling.

When the cool water came into contact with my skin, it felt like I was on fire. I tried very hard to scrub off all the blood efficiently as well as quickly since there was just no way I would torture myself some more by feeling the pain of my wounds coming in contact with water.

Calling that shower the most excruciating shower in my life was definitely accurate.

I dressed all of my wounds to the best of my ability. Every movement made my entire body light up in pain. After dressing my wounds, I got into my pyjamas and went to sleep on my stomach. Even though, there were a few wounds and loads of bruises all in different stages of recovery, it was far better than sleeping on a back filled with open whip slashes. The thought alone was enough to make me groan.

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"Mum...mum! I'll get you out! Mum! Hold on! AHHH!" I screamed as I woke up from the same nightmare. She died all because I was too weak...

Too weak...

I got up and ran towards the bathroom at lightning speed. I threw up all the food that I had for dinner. For what seemed like an eternity, my stomach finally stopped churning. I brushed my teeth and went and sat on my bed. Beads of perspiration were rolling down my face and I couldn't bother to wipe them. My wounds suddenly caught fire again due to my sudden movements and all I could do was moan in pain.

I always get night terrors. They are just like nightmares but more intensified. How I wish that my life will just come to an end. Then I will finally get a rest...

I really could not take staying on this earth anymore. Why me? Why did life have to be like this for me? What did I ever do to anyone for me to live this way...
All the anger, sadness, hatred and traumas that were bottled up decided to pour out on me right now.

I instantly knew what I had to do and quickly changed into exercise attire. I made sure that the clothes covered all my bandages in case anyone sees me. I sneaked out of the house slowly ensuring that I don't get noticed.

I sprinted out of my house in the direction the place I always went to. I always know it will welcome me not matter what.

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Chapter 4? DONE. I am quite proud of how this chapter turned out :)

What do y'all think? Damn, I can't believe I finished 4 chapters including a prologue.
Feedback always welcomed. Feel free to give me some story ideas that you have as well :D