I'm finally living it up to the blog's name! I'm finally writing! For those who don't know this, the blog is originally for me to put up my writings. But as you can tell, that effort was quite unproductive for quite some time. And so here I am to introduce the first chapter of Against the Malice, a side project I've been working on all summer!
Chapter 1: Torture
I’ve had enough.
He threw her across the room and grinned at
the sight of her small form shaking as she tried to stand up. His breath was
heavy and his body reeked of alcohol. He made his way across the room to where
she was and with one beefy arm, pulled a handful of long blonde hair, forcing
her bowed head to look up to him. She winced and her blue eyes tried to avoid
his wild ones.
He opened his
mouth only to utter one word,
“Die.”
Then he slammed
her head against the wall which knocked her unconscious. The last thing she
remembered was her father’s satisfied grin.
It must have been
hours since she passed out since it was almost dawn. The cottage was dark and
she could hear her father’s snores bounced off from the walls. It seemed to be
coming from the kitchen. No doubt that he passed out while rummaging the
cupboard for more rum. She tried to pull herself up but she can barely stand
and used the wall as her support.
Author's Note: The picture poses no relevance to the exact description in the story. Rather it is used as representation of an idea in the specific chapter.
I must go. I have to leave this place before he wakes
up. She told herself. But
before she leaves, she remembered her mother’s necklace underneath her pillow
where she would kiss the locket every night before she goes to sleep. Dragging
her injured self as quietly as possible, she peered through the entrance of the
small kitchen and just as she thought; there was her father passed out on the
floor. The whole kitchen was a mess with broken plates and cups strewn on the
floor. She took a deep breath and slowly entered the kitchen. She had to cross
the kitchen in order to get to her room.
Avoiding the bits of glass on the floor, she
finally made to her room and slowly opened the door. Her room was small, like
any other parts of the cottage, with only one old bed and a small cupboard
where she keeps her clothes. Not that she has that many clothes since she only
owns a turquoise colored cloak which its color had faded through time and two
old dresses that used to be her mother’s. Grabbing the only memory she had of
her mother underneath her pillow and stuff all her clothes into an old
rucksack, she quietly closed her bedroom door. Her eyes glistened with tears as
she looked at her bedroom for the last time. After all these years, her room
was her sanctuary where she would hide from her father and the rest of the world.
It was hard enough that her father would abuse her but the thought of the
villagers hating her was enough to kill her. When her mother was alive, these
people loved her and treated her kindly. They often talked about her beauty,
how she surpassed her mother’s beauty who before this was the most beautiful
woman in the whole region. Everything changed when her mother died and left her
with her father. He is the cause of how she looked now.
With her mother’s necklace safe around her
neck and her rucksack in hand, she took a deep breath and quietly crossed the
kitchen again. Her father was still unconscious, his snores had labored a
little but he did not show any indication of waking up soon. Again she avoided
from making any sounds and carefully avoided the broken plates and cups on the
floor.
She safely made back into the living room
where her father abused her earlier and was about to open the front door when
one beefy hand wrapped around her right arm and an angry but drunk voice
growled, “Where do you think you’re going wench?!”
“Let go!” She
pushed him away, causing him to stagger a bit. She opened the door and made her
way to the small stable behind the cottage. She didn’t hear the door slam, that
must mean her father was hot on her trail. She opened the stable doors and
quickly mounted her father’s horse. The horse was never fond of her from the
beginning and it started to fight off her from its back. She pulled on the reins
trying to calm the horse.
“You fucking
wench! You’re going to leave just like your mother did!” Her father’s drunken
face was red with anger. The horse was getting harder to control and what
happened next was too quick to comprehend. The horse practically leaped out of
the stable and jet out away from the cottage. She managed to catch a glimpse of
what happened to her father. She saw his beefy body lay on the ground,
motionless.
She tried
controlling the animal by pulling hard on the reins but it seemed to make it go
faster. “STOP! STOP!!”
Judging from the
way it headed, the dark forest loomed over them but it was better from the
cottage. “Anything away from him.” She muttered to herself.
1 comments:
Noice one, Yang!! Keep it up!! Me wanna know what happens next!!
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