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EVE'S POV

The door to the basement was dragged open. Light filtered into the dark room, slowly, illuminating my surroundings. Blinking rapidly, I raised my head to see Tom's silhouette. He stood at the door. I couldn't see his face, but I could very well guess the look on it. It was the same look he had every time he let me out of the basement. 

The look of annoyance. 

I trembled, burying my face back in my arms. Pain. I felt it everywhere. It trickled in doses into my limbs, flashing whenever I moved, however small it was. I couldn't remember much of what happened after the party.  

Perhaps that was because I chose not to remember. It was nothing new that Tom had beaten the crap out of me. I ought to be used to it by now. After so many years, I ought to be used to his slaps, and kicks and punches. I should be used to his tantrums. 

 

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