Sadistically Sweet (Watty Awards Finalist 2012)

The Fourth Door

My eyes widened and I held my breath. Maybe if I didn't move he wouldn't freak out. I was wrong.

"What do you think you're doing?" Francis repeated harshly.

I slowly turned my head to face him, knowing there was fear in my eyes. Veins popped out of his neck as his face reddened. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were white. I knew he was ready to attack. From his crouched stance to his darkening eyes, everything screamed that I was in trouble.

"Answer me! Now!" he screamed louder.

I tried to pick my words carefully, knowing that anything could set him off. Question was; should I lie? No, that would probably just get me in more trouble.

"I was trying to find the closet," I said in a small voice, trying to look ashamed.

This is one of the times I really should have listened to my consciousness, because his face broke into a snarl.

"Tell me the truth Haitlin!"

I shrank into myself and tried not to look away. I had to obey him.

"I, I wanted to know what is in there. It was locked, so I tried looking under the door frame," I whispered.

I made sure all my movements were slow, so I wouldn't set him off. Turning myself around to completely face him, my eyes left his for only a second, but that was enough. He charged at me and grabbed my arm, whipping me at the wall. My body hit with such an impact that my breath was literally taken away.

My body screamed in pain and my lungs were on fire. Gasping for air, I fell to the ground with my arms over my stomach. I couldn't seem to take in enough air at once, and I wasn't even allowed a chance to gain my breath back. Before I knew it, Francis had his hands on me again.

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up from my crouched position. His arms slammed me into the wall again, but this time he held on. His grip had me cringing in pain and trying to scream. At once, my breath filled my lungs; a sweet sensation I never had appreciated before.

"Stop!" I screamed. 

I don't think he even heard my plea. 

"Stop," I repeated, quieter.

His grip on my shoulders was bringing tears to my eyes. I was afraid he would break something, and then leave me to suffer. I didn't want to die here. That sole though had my entire core shaken. I had to stop him. Suddenly, his right hand flew up to my throat and he lifted me two inches into the air.

"Stay away from that door," he growled.

I gasped for air once more, but his hand just tightened.

"Okay," I coughed.

My lungs were burning, eyes watering, and neck aching. I needed to get him off of me, and I only knew one way to stop him.

"Francis, please stop," I said in between gasps. 

I struggled to lift my free arm, but pain shot down it. Slowly, though, I was able to bring it up to his face.

"Francis," I repeated with tears falling from my eyes.

My fingers touched the stubble of his beard, and caressed his face.

"F-Francis, p-please stop," I stuttered. 

My last breath left my lungs and black spots swirled into my vision. I closed my eyes and knew I wouldn't open them. This was how I was going to die. I had never dreamed this would be how I would spend the last moments of my life. I had so many things I wanted to do before I left this earth, but I wouldn't be able to fulfill them.