This is a Hardin x Tessa fan fiction, although focuses mostly on their daughter Emery Scott.
Finished writing: March 25, 2021.
Posting schedule: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
It is written in first person, present tense, and has many point of vi...
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EMERY.
What I see when I enter my house is my mother pressed up against the wall, her eyes squinted and her face covered in terror. Her arms are flying towards the culprit holding her against the wall and her bare feet are hardly touching the ground. All I can see is the back of the man holding her in place, but I know for certain it isn't my father. Of course it isn't dad. Mom looks terrified and the culprit's hands look too aggressive to be dad's.
I know for a fact that it's Chris holding her. His hands are holding her from her cloudy pajama top, one hand wrapped around her neck. "Where is she?" He screeches into her face, making mom wince and turn her head away from him. All she does is whimper in fear, smacking his shoulders. I've never seen her this way...
"What the fuck Chris! Get off of her!" I scream once I finally take control of my frightened body. Honestly, yelling at him probably isn't the smartest move but I can hardly think straight right now. My legs move quickly, so quickly that I feel like everything else around me is slow. My mind is racing a thousand miles a minute with scared possibilities as I grab Chris's shoulder, pulling him backwards as hard as I can.
He stumbles backwards, his hands losing contact with my mother's skin. He's quick when he turns around and slaps me across the face, sending me to the ground. "There you are, you dumb fuck." He spits like a poisonous snake, slithering closer to me as if my mother has disappeared from the room.
He seems to have forgotten about mom, who is now continuously coughing, holding her hand over her red bruised neck. I push myself away, my jeans dragging onto the wooden floor to the other side of the room.
I need to get up. I can't defend myself if I'm on the ground. Get up Emery. Get the fuck up.
I quickly flip myself around so it's easier for me to stand, but I feel a kick to my gut and I'm on the floor again. "You thought you could send me to jail? I have connections in there, you know. There's no getting rid of me, Emery. You can't— fuck!" Chris screeches, turning around and lifting his arm in front of his face. Mom had hit him with an umbrella, the closest thing she could get to. She seemed to have hit him good because it takes a moment for him to recover. But when he does his eyes are red with rage and his hand is reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small knife and pushing mom against the wall again. Her head bangs against the wall and I'm surprised it didn't dent the wall with the force.
I scramble up as quick as possible and jump onto Chris's back, pulling his head up, making him lose his balance. We might be girls, girls who don't work out as often as we should, but we are two against one. I hear Chris groan, I hear mom gasp, and then I feel Chris and I moving backwards. His feet scramble to gain his balance. We soon collide against the wall, my back hitting the light green drywall beside the window and I push him away from me. His foot gets stuck in the rug and he falls onto the coffee table, breaking the middle glass. Blood quickly spreads from under him, creating a pool of red liquid. He fell on his knife. He's gasping for breath, but doesn't move from his place on the broken glass and I begin to silently thank that damned carpet for being there.
