CHAPTER 6| Haunting me.

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TW: violence.

I tip-toe into the house, praying he's passed out from the excessive amount of alcohol he normally consumes.

"Please be sleeping, please be sleeping," I quietly and repeatedly chant, crossing my fingers.

"Where have you been, Azalea?" He slurs, pulling me by my hair from behind.

"I - I was looking for jobs." I said.

It wasn't a lie, but there was no point trying. I'm almost certain he wouldn't believe me or he'd punish me for talking back.

"You liar, you're a fucking slut, Azalea. You were whoring around with boys, men, weren't you?" He accuses.

I shake my head repeatedly, starting to tear up.

"You fucking whore," He shouts, slamming me against the wall.

He punches me repeatedly, screaming about how I messed up his life and took the love of his life away.

I feel dizzy, nauseous.

My eyesight goes blurry.

Suddenly, i'm thrown the the floor.

From the corner of my eye, I see a knife. A knife in Stefano's hands.

Instinctively, I shield myself with my arms and start sobbing.

He aggressively pushes my arms away and starts cutting my stomach.

I scream in pain.

Hot tears running down my face.

Then, my vision goes black.

FLASHBACK OVER.

I shoot up, tears running down my face.

These damn nightmares, haunting me left and right. Why wasn't I the one with better luck? 

All-of-a-sudden, I feel jealous of my brothers.  I don't mean to assume, but they seem to have had it easy, really easy. Rich, and not a single care in the world.

But that's besides the point. The point is, what happened to Stefano? 

When Mary was alive, we were all a picture-perfect family. After she died, we still had that bond. He'd help me when I was just a 7 year-old kid who longed for her mother.  And I'd hug him when he silently sobbed, when he was just a single old man who longed for the love of his life.

4 months after she passed, he started drinking alcohol.

At first, it was just small sips in the morning but he'd be completely sober by the afternoon to be there for me. But then he started ignoring me, neglecting me. He pushed his 7 year old daughter away. And I had no idea what was happening. Whenever I brought her up, he'd slap me. Or leave me in a room without food. A 7 year old.

But it eventually led to large amounts of alcohol, which meant more beatings, also getting more severe as I grew older.

I knew they were involved in some sorta illegal business, they were always on high alert and had guns whenever we went out.

They also thought of changing my name but couldn't do so as they weren't my legal parents I think.

I need a plan.

I need a plan to go back home and get my stuff, without anyone noticing. 

Not now though, it's too soon.

I need that note back.

What if I get it back in 2 years, when I'm 17?

Or next year?

I think a year is good enough to get it back.

I glance out the window and see the sun is rising. I don't have a phone nor a watch so i'm not sure what the time is, but it seems to be just about 4 am.

I wipe my face with my hands and lay back on the bed.

I hope they're not as bad as Stefano.

In all honestly, I miss Mary.

She was my mother, and I think she always will be. 

Not sure I'll ever be able to recover.

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