A Fate Renewed

Chapter 3-The Punishment

**Trigger Warning for Abuse and Neglect in this Chapter**

(Amira)

Shit...

The word echoed through my mind, the realization of what happened settling in as I stared down at that little wooden box.

He found the money...

Mr. Anderson had given me a raise last winter and I didn’t tell my father. I had been keeping the money hidden in my drawer, slowly putting it away each payday and handing him the rest.

Suddenly, I felt a hovering presence behind me, I could feel his energy, the dark negative feelings seeping into me and all I felt was rage, pure rage. I couldn’t turn around, I didn’t want to look at him, to see his face and how angry he must be, this would be bad.

“You little b***h, you thought you could steal from me?” He slurred his words, hatred filling his voice as he spat at me.

Hurt tore through me, the words he said making my stomach turn as I stiffened.

Steal from him, that's what he thought I was doing? I worked my ass off for this money, I was the reason we could still live in this house, the reason he could drink his life away.

I said nothing..I just clenched my fists at my side and said nothing.

Suddenly my dad pushed me to the floor, forcing me on my knees as I let out a small yelp.

I quickly hung my head forward, preparing myself for the worst because I knew it was coming..this would be bad.

He kicked me again making me tumble forward. I heard the slap of leather against my back before I felt it, then another against my shoulder. I cried out biting my tongue, causing it to bleed.

"I'm sorry." I shouted, remorse filling my voice.

I couldn't beg, I wouldn't lower myself to that point, it was just easier to apologize or say nothing at all.

Eight, I counted as he stood behind me huffing, my back burned and ached, the stinging settling in now and turning into a dull throb as it matched the beat of my racing heart.

“Look at me.” He yelled through the silence, causing me to jump.

I slowly turned around, facing him, wiping my tears quickly before he could see them. I couldn't meet his eyes, looking down at the carpet as he hovered above me.

“Look..at..me.” He said once again, much slower.

I knew if I didn’t he would use the belt again. I raised my green eyes up to him, his dark brown orbs staring back, glaring at me, full of nothing but hatred.

“If you ever steal from me again, I will kill you.” His voice was serious and grim.

I blinked quickly, this was the first time he had threatened to kill me, to think he hated his own daughter so much that he would threaten my life, realization hit me that this man wasn't my father anymore, he hadn’t been for a long time.

I sat there looking at him, his hand quickly lashing out, slapping me across the face and making my head whip to the side as I tasted blood on my lips.

“Do you understand.” He yelled, making me jump.

"Yes sir." I nodded my head slightly, my voice barely a whisper as those were the only words I could muster.

"Clean this mess up.” He said with disgust before looking around my room, seeming to sober up quite a bit now, and then he left, slamming the door behind him.

Seconds later I could hear him rummaging through the cabinets, ready to fix his dilemma of sobering up.

I kneeled on the floor, looking around my room, and numbly stood up, beginning to straighten the items he had thrown around. Eight hundred dollars, that is how much he had found, that was why he had hit me eight times exactly.

All of that money, all of the time I had spent was gone, just like that.. I felt defeated, I fixed my mattress and cleaned up the rest of my room. I slowly slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door gently behind me, trying not to provoke him even more.

I pulled my shirt off and looked at my back, huge red marks covered me, the blood had already begun to dry around the lashes. I winced just at the sight of them. He hadn’t used the belt in years, usually it was slapping or kicking. Looking at my reflection I studied myself, my full lips now swollen, the red blood tinting them as they almost looked pretty, as if I had put on lipstick.

I looked into my green eyes, I saw nothing, no light, no fear, just emptiness.

I felt like a shell of a person. My wavy hair reached down past my shoulders and I began to examine my body.

My eyes settled on a bruise that rested on my thin waist from two weeks ago. It was now yellow, at the final stages of healing.

I turned around slowly to examine the marks on my back, each red s***h throbbing as I stared at myself, noticing how my hip bones protruded out. I looked too thin, and with my short stature, I felt so small and frail, I felt pathetic.

Why was I here? Why hadn’t I left once I turned eighteen when I legally could? My head swam with these questions even though I already knew the answer and it made me disappointed in myself.

The fact that I still cared for this man who did this to me, I was here for her because he had no one left, she was his everything. I felt bad for him, maybe it was just pity. That's why I was still here, even though I knew he hated me, he loathed me, especially since I looked like her, I had her brown hair and her warm smile, but my eyes, those were all my own.

He wouldn’t look into them very often because it made him realize I wasn’t her, that the way he treated me wasn’t fair. Looking down I traced the small birthmark over my heart, it was a dark s***h in a long line, looking like a scar more than anything.

My mother always kissed it and traced the line while I drifted to sleep as a child. She said that was how the angels added my heart because they gave me something extra, something so special that only she could see it.

I really believed her when she told me, I thought I was special, now looking at myself, I felt betrayed by those ideas, I couldn't believe in those childish things anymore.

I added some ointment to the lashes on my back, only the ones I could reach and the pain started to numb as much as they could.

That night I slept on my stomach and awoke wincing and groaning throughout the early hours of morning. Giving up on sleep I just decided to start my journey early.

I quietly grabbed my backpack and added some extra socks and a light jacket, I knew the trails would be muddy so I wanted to be prepared. I looked inside and only had a single bottle of water and two granola bars.

I didn’t want to risk making too much noise so I decided that should be more than enough. Looking in the mirror, I hastily tied my hair back and slipped on my jeans and a white t-shirt, pulling on a blue hoodie.

I then finished it off with my baseball cap and quietly opened the door. Peeking my head out, I surveyed the living room, seeing my father’s half-empty bottle of liquor sitting on the floor next to the couch.

I stood there for a moment, frozen like a deer in headlights as I listened for any sound of him. Sure enough, I heard his snoring bellowing out beneath the crack of his door.

My shoulders relaxed and I slowly put my backpack on, wincing from the contact with my tender skin. I tiptoed across the hall to the door and pulled on my hiking boots. Slowly turning the handle, I tugged lightly as the door before opening it and slipped outside, not even looking back once, I was out of there...