Chapter 3

"D...dad?" My voice is a shaky mess. 

I barely called him and this time it got his attention as he turned to me. His eyes paused at the small amount of blood tracing my hands and my shirt.

The widening of his eyes had my insides curling in fear as I immediately stood up on my shaky legs. "D...dad... I... someone put the b...bloody knife in my bag. I.. I... swear I... don't know where it c...come from." My whole body was trembling in raw fear as dad sauntered towards me. I was expecting him to confront me and ask me questions but he struck me.

Pain shot through my cheek as I tried to stay calm. "I...I didn't do anything." Another strike and this one is harsher than the last one.

"I.." I tried to speak.

"Shut up bitch!" He spat and he punched me on the jaw. It was so brutal that I fell on the floor, also hitting my forehead on the table. I could feel warm blood trailing down my temple, the bitter taste of blood in my mouth as I tried to breathe. My head was getting dizzy.

He didn't even let me breathe and kicked me hard in the stomach. A sharp cry tore through my lips at that excruciating pain.

But he didn't stop. He looked drunk and outrageous as he continued to kick me aimlessly, his brutal kicks hit my stomach, my legs, my ribs. I was in pain. So much pain.

My head was pounding and black dots started to appear in my line of vision. 

He will kill me today.

I was so damn sure he would kill me today.

A harsh kick to my head knocked me out cold on the floor.

My consciousness came back before I could open my eyes. I blinked several times to adjust my eyes to the surroundings. The pain was the first thing that shot through my body in zaps. 

I could feel someone touching my hands, opening my eyes properly. I looked down only to scream in pure horror.

My dad was holding the tip of the knife with the glove-covered hand and he was forcefully making my hand wrap around the holder. He did it with my right hand.

I was frozen. My throat was as if scrubbed with sandpaper. My lungs forgot the basic function of breathing when my dad spoke up.

"You know there's a bounty to capture the person who killed that boy. His parents want the culprit. I know you pathetic shit can't kill a fly but someone wants to frame you and I need the money they are offering, now the dagger has your fingerprints. Glad you're worth something, bitch." He spat venomously right at my face.

My heart bleeds at his words. I looked down to find my hands and feet were restrained. It would've been so much better if I was born an orphan. Dads are supposed to love their kids no matter what but my dad wants to frame me for something which I never did only for a few piles of money.

I watched in horror as my dad called the cops, he walked out of the house as he talked and my eyes again landed on the knife in my hand. I did the first thing that came into my mind. I started cutting the rope with that same knife and it was working.

Once my hands were free I immediately opened the ropes around my feet and stood on my shaky legs with the help of the sofa. I threw that knife on the sofa and limped towards the back door.

There was only one thing going on in my head. I must escape.

I opened the back door and closed it behind me. A surge of new energy came into me as I made a mad run for my life. I ran through the old streets as the area got dimmer and dimmer and there was barely a house or two around but I still didn't stop.

Adrenaline was rushing through my system. I cannot go to the cops knowing that my father has the knife with my fingerprints. I want to kill myself for my stupidity to leave that knife behind.

I was on an abandoned road and I could hear a car coming from behind so I immediately ran into the woods. On the road, they could easily find me so I must use the forest as an escape.

It was dark. So dark. Only moonlight was my companion as I ran. I know my body would give up on me anytime now so I didn't want to take the risks. I want to be far away.

I am glad I was still wearing my sneakers, otherwise, my feet would be a bleeding mess with all the sharp branches and sharp small rocks all over.

My eyes are swelling with all the beating my father gave me. I already staggered several times while running. Black dots appeared in my vision but I didn't give up. I was scared, so damn scared but I ran and ran.

There was just night chirping of insects or Lord knows what. I just knew I'm far deep in the forest. If I stopped here, I would surely be the fresh yet bruised meat for the wild animals.

This thought alone fastened my pace. It was so dark that I didn't see a rock and my foot got tangled with it. I hit the floor hard. A groan of pain left my lips and a sob tore through my body but no voice came out of my lips.

My throat was so parched that I felt I lost my vocal cords.

Everything hurts and I could make out nothing. From the numb feeling of it, I know my foot is broken or sprained. I just couldn't feel the pain of it. Pain always comes after some time, numbness is the first thing that could be felt. I'm well aware of pain.

My father made sure I tasted pain every single day.

Darkness was slowly clouding my vision as I tried to stand. But I just couldn't, my body gave up on me. I was losing it.

My heart jolted and a heart attack was on its way when I heard the dry twigs breaking and bushes were moving as if someone was walking through it.

I flinched back, my head completely dizzy. My eyes were hoody and I was at the brink of losing my consciousness when I saw a big black wolf approaching me.

I tried to scoot back, a soundless whimper left my lips. As if sensing my intense terror the wolf stopped. It wasn't a normal-sized wolf. No. It is a massive-sized wolf, gazing at me with golden swirls of eyes.

The wolf was growling as if it was outrageous. I'm not a threat, I wanted to say.

He could eat me whole in just two bites. 

Tears were continuously pouring out of my eyes as I tried to stay awake.

I tried my hardest.

But I just couldn't. Blackness seeped through my brain as I slowly drifted into darkness, knowing fully well that I would become the feast for this wolf.

Maybe I could complain to God about my life when I meet him next.