I hit and thrashed his back urging him to put me down, but he wouldn't listen. My mind hinted at a lot of things that could go wrong, for it'd already faced the concussions of his previous aggression.
Everything around faded away as the possibilities of his sour mood washed over my heart like a volcano. The event where my sister was almost killed only for me going against his want, played repeatedly without a pause, multiplying my assaults on his back. This time I kept scratching and bruising his back violently.
As my sour throat found its raw voice, the only people who felt to be my knights in shining armor were the kind hearted woman, whose son was carrying me like some lifeless doll used for his own amusement and the man, who stood at the top of his priority list.
But to my dismay th
