CHAPTER 1: ELSA

“Open this damn door before I break it down!”

I hear my stepfather's drunken voice yell for the second time from outside my bedroom door.

“Wait till I get my hands on you, you slimy bitch!”

As quietly as I can, I recover from my frozen stance and will my legs to retreat into my bathroom. Once I'm in, I use my strength to raise the creaky door, this way it doesn't make a noise as I pull it close and shut myself in.

He rattles the door again and suddenly laughs like he knows he has the upper hand.

“Hiding from me will do you no good. You can't stay locked up in there forever.”

My heart beats so loud, I think I can even hear it through the thumping of the pulse of my neck. And I know my stepfather wasn't bluffing when he said he would break down the door. He'd done it before when I was fourteen years old and Lisa, my stepsister, had lied against me to him. He barged into this bedroom when I was having my bath and broke down the bathroom door when I refused to open it.

I was young and scared. My fears only grew worse after that day. He would sneak into my room at night to touch me. He did this especially when he would get drunk. The first time it happened, I threatened to tell Mom about it. He hit me so hard that night that I had a black eye just the next morning.

Before I had a chance to show it to mom, my stepfather got to her first and told her I had fallen off the bed and hit my eyes against the nightstand.

You must think ‘She's your biological mum, surely she didn't buy that lie.’ Well, I'm here to tell you that she did. If she suspected that he was lying, she never showed it. Even to this day.

When I'm able to breathe again without feeling choked up, I know my panic attack, which seems to have become a weekly occurrence, has subsided.

I clean my eyes and take deep breaths as I get back up on my feet. I can't hear my Stepfather’s yelling anymore so I leave the bathroom as quietly as possible and walk to my bedroom door.

Placing my ears against the rough surface of the hard door, I still my breath so I can concentrate on any sound outside the door. As usual, the only thing I can hear in the hallway is the heavy snore of my passed-out stepfather. My body feels normal again immediately. I don't like that he's just outside my door and can wake up at any time and continue harassing me again, but for now, I appreciate the peace. I hardly get that around here. Either Lisa or Mom would later come to take him upstairs in the middle of the night.

I have just four hours to sleep until 5:30 a.m. when I'll have to wake up for the day to clean the house. Just as I'm about to doze off, my phone pings from an incoming text.

Oliver: Hey, E! Mind dropping by tomorrow? Just got back from the UK.

Seeing the message from my boyfriend, Oliver, instantly wipes the sleep of my eyes.

Me: Hey Oliver. I've missed you so much. Sure, I'll drop by tomorrow. Does noon sound good?

Oliver: 12 is too far. Come earlier.

Me: You know how it is around here. 12 is the time I'll be free.

When the three dots keep appearing and disappearing for a while, I put my phone down. If anyone walks in on me right now, they would think I'm crazy because of how wide the smile on my face is. That's how happy I get each time I talk with Oliver.

Oliver’s my first love. He was the first and only person to show me what it meant to have someone on your side since my father's death.

I love him so much that the first time he brought up eloping together on my 24th birthday, I immediately fell in love with the idea. That would be a dream; being far away from this excuse of a family I was punished with and in the presence of the one who makes me happy. Since Oliver mentioned the idea when I was just 20, that has been all I've lived and dreamed of. He said he would help me process my visa before my 24th birthday which is just next week.

In six days. Of course, I've been counting. It's impossible not to.

The ping of my phone disrupts my happy thoughts.

Oliver: They are assholes. It's fine though. I'll surprise you tomorrow.

Me: Have you been able to get the stuff done?

I ask, referring to the visa because there's no way I'm going to just write ‘visa’ there. If someone sees my phone before I'm able to disappear with Oliver, our plans will be ruined.

Oliver: We'll talk more about it tomorrow. Goodnight, E.

Me: Okay. I love you.

There's no reply after that. He's probably already dozed off. He does that a lot.

I bury my phone beneath my pillow and try to fall asleep but I'm too excited. I'm extremely excited about what the future holds. I want to meet new people, work, and finally be able to go to college since no one was willing to forward my education after high school. They had no problem enrolling Lisa into one so why was mine different?

And after I've graduated, Oliver and I will get married just like we've always dreamed of. I let out a dreamy sigh. Up until this week, I had never let my imagination run wild for fear of disappointment, but knowing that my freedom is just six days away has me all jittery. I finally have hope and I won't let anything get in the way of it.

I'm able to fall asleep sometime in the night and only stir in my sleep hours later when I feel a breath fan across my neck. Before I can panic that my stepfather took on his words and did break down the door, Oliver’s familiar pinecone scent drifts through my nostrils, making me release a relieved breath. My stepfather always has a stale alcoholic stench to him.

“Relax, It's just me.” He says a bit too loudly.

“How did you get in?” I whisper, hoping he will get the cue to whisper as well because I don't want anyone to hear us.

“The basement.” Is all he says as he kisses me between my chest and fondles my breast with his other hand. He flips us over almost immediately so that I'm on top of him. “C'mon, get me off. I've missed you.” He unbuckles his belt and folds his hands behind his head.

I still feel sleepy but I know how much Oliver likes this so I get to work until he releases on me. Knowing that I won't be getting any sex since he's found his release already, I get up from the bed to go clean myself in the bathroom.

“Oliver.”

“Yes?” His voice sounds drowsy so I know sleep isn't very far away.

“Are our passports ready? My birthday is just next week, remember?”

“I have it all under control, E. Stop worrying.” I can hear him sigh but I'll just assume it's because he's tired.

Peeking my head out of the bathroom to look at him, I can see his chest rising and falling, like he's asleep already. I release a sigh of mine.

I leave a knocked-out Oliver in my room to sleep as I shut the door behind me. The only upside of having my room on the ground floor, away from the other rooms which are all upstairs is because of times like this, so Oliver can sneak out without bumping into anyone.

I get on with my activities for the day which involves cleaning the ground floor, preparing breakfast and then cleaning their rooms when they're all up and having breakfast. That's my daily routine. But doing chores today feels different from the other days and I know why. I squeal internally in delight because I know that soon, my life now will be a thing of the past.