ONE

23.1K 510 136
                                    

L U N A

My mind leaves the unconscious state when I hear my alarm going off. I mentally prepare myself for another day in hell. A few more weeks I tell myself.

It's eight in the morning, Linda is expecting me at work at nine. She's the owner of a small coffee shop down the street. I have been working there for only two weeks, secretly earning money to get out of here.

I don't get paid much, but it's better than nothing.

My plan is to work the rest of the vacation, trying to earn as much as I can without Nick noticing. And then I can finally run away.

Nick will go mental if he finds out. I know I'm taking a huge risk, but I can't live like this anymore.

Nick is my caretaker since Mom died. I was eight when he came to pick me up from school and told me he found her corps in the living room.

A small part of me refuses to believe that a heart attack is the reason of her death. There was never an autopsy to confirm how she died.

Maybe I'm this paranoid because I never had to chance to properly say goodbye. Nick refused to let me go to the funeral. I don't even know where she's buried.

Mom and Nick started dating when I was around six years old. So when I needed a new guardian, he stepped up. There was nobody else who could replace him. I have no aunts or uncles, and my father's not in the picture.

Nick was no longer the nice boyfriend I had gotten to know over the years. He changed into a violent man who becomes angry over the littlest things. His bloodlust is never ending and fueled by alcohol.

Maybe Mom's death broke something in him, but I highly doubt it. I believe he was always like this, he is just a master in pretending. A person can't just change their whole personality in a blink of an eye.

I rubbed the condensation —caused by the hot water from the shower— from the mirror. Fading bruises around my neck drew my attention so I immediately looked away. I avoid my mirror image as much as possible. I couldn't bear to look at the person I had become over the years.

The person looking back at me had no happiness, had no cause in life. She was always hurt, emotionally and physically.

I change into my baggy jeans and a black turtleneck. It wasn't easy to be dressed so warmly in the summer, but I had no other way to hide all the bruises. The last thing I needed was people asking questions.

Once I was brave enough to go to the police, I had just turned thirteen and was desperate for change. Nick had caught me before I reached the station. My ankle paid the ultimate price. Now I have a limp for the rest of my life.

Before I could leave for work, I changed the bandage around my upper arm. A week ago, Nick's supper was a bit burnt because I had to bring him his bottle of beer. Every time I burnt his food, even if it was his fault, he used his lighter.

I double checked the house to make sure Nick was gone. Yesterday I was almost caught, so I had to be more careful.

When I opened the door, I took a deep breath of fresh air. Immediately regretting it when I feel a huge twinge in my ribs. Apparently I hadn't cleaned the house well enough, which resulted in getting a beating.

Before I knew it I had arrived at the coffee shop. I greeted Linda and got myself ready for the shift.

Six long hours passed, and it was almost time to go home. I still had 15 minutes before Nick got home.

I cursed when the doorbell rang, indicating a customer had entered the shop. People who came one minute before closing time could fuck off.

"Is it still possible to order?" a manly voice asked.

LunaWhere stories live. Discover now