PROLOGUE
EMO
The Past
“GET BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!”
Father grabs my arm and spins me around, and the next moment, he’s plowing his fist into my stomach. It hurts, but I don’t let him see my pain. He’s already had enough of my misery, he won’t get any more. Especially after tonight.
I blow out a harsh breath and straighten my spine, meeting his eyes.
“Think you’re a tough shit?” he growls, spit landing on my cheek. He wraps his meaty hand around my throat and squeezes so hard I can’t breathe. “You won’t be so tough when I bend you over that table and give your ass the beating it deserves.”
He backs me up until my butt meets the edge of the table. I don’t fight him. I don’t try to pull his hand away from my neck or wiggle to get free. I don’t resist when he spins me around. I don’t scream when he yanks down my pants and hits me with the buckle of the belt until I feel blood sliding down my legs. I don’t struggle when I hear him pulling his own pants off. When his hairy chest meets my back, I don’t try to throw him off me.
I endure it, because this will be the very last time he touches me.
While his hot and nasty breath blows across the back of my neck with his grunts, I slowly reach underneath the table and find the syringe I taped to the bottom earlier before Hell Night started. I work my nail under the tape until it breaks free.
I grit my teeth when the table digs into my stomach painfully.
Lifting my hand, and without so much as a sound, I bury the syringe in the side of Father’s thigh, pressing on the plunger with my thumb.
“Fuck!” he shouts, ripping himself away from me. The sudden jolt of his body leaving mine is painful, but still welcome.
I spin around and face him. His eyes are pinned on the syringe still sticking out of his thigh. He jerks his head up, his surprised gaze clashing with mine. Something dark flashes across his face.
“That was a big fuckin’ mistake, Aziah,” he says threateningly, pulling the needle from his thigh and tossing it to the side.
I hold his icy glare with my own hatred blazing in my eyes. I don’t say anything as I yank my pants up over my hips. When he takes a step forward, he stumbles to the side. His eyes widen as he reaches for a chair to catch himself.
“What in the hell was in that needle?” he demands, his words slurring.
“Tranquilizer,” I answer. I snuck into Dr. Manor’s office earlier today and stole it.
He falls to the side, his elbow knocking against the table on his way to the floor. “Your assss is gon be on fiirre when I waaa up.”
Ignoring his words, because I’ll be long gone by the time he wakes up, I go to the rug in the middle of the living room and pull it back, revealing a hidden door. Opening the heavy door, I go to my now unconscious Dad, grab his arm, and drag him to the hole in the floor. I yank on his arm when the pants around his knees get snagged on a nail. Apparently, his hip gets clipped as well, because there’s a gash right by his hip bone.
Once he’s situated by the door, I use my foot and push him over the edge. He flops to the bottom at an awkward angle, his head hitting the side wall on his way down.
I stare at the man who’s inspired so much hatred in me. A man who has caused so much pain, not only to me, but especially to Rella. I’ve despised the man for so long that I don’t remember a time I didn’t hate him.
The bang is loud when I drop the door closed. I situate the rug back over the floor, making sure to put it back in the exact same spot so it doesn’t look like it’s been moved.
I grab my shirt from the floor, put it on, and make my way to the front door. I don’t look back at the lodge as I walk away. The place is pure evil, and there’s not one thing I’ll miss about it.
I make a few pit stops in town on my way to my house. By the time I walk through the door, I’m panting and my heart beats a mile a minute. Stripping out of my dirty clothes, I go straight to the shower and step under the hot water.
Normally on nights like these, my brothers, Rella, and I would go to Mae and Dale’s house as soon as we could get away from our parents. Tonight is different though. Rella is no longer alive. We’ll still be going to Mae and Dale’s, but Rella won’t be with us.
I slam my fists against the tiles in the shower. Anger and pain cramp my stomach, the hurt much worse than anything my dad ever put me through.
I take a couple of deep breaths, getting my shit together.
Once I’m dressed, I pick up the stuffed rabbit I stole from Rella’s room a week ago, the night she slit her own wrists. I cram it into my hoodie pocket and leave the house again.