Ariana
Pain didn't just hit me.
It exploded.
My body slammed into the wall so hard the cracked paint scraped against my skin. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs, leaving me gasping, clawing for breath that wouldn't come. For a second, I couldn't think. Couldn't move. Couldn't even cry.
The room smelled like alcohol and sweat like him.
My skin was already a map of bruises layered over older ones. Purple fading into yellow. Blue blooming into black. My ribs throbbed with every shallow inhale, and my knees shook so badly I wasn't sure how I was still standing.
But he didn't care.
He never cared.
To him, I wasn't Ariana.
I wasn't his daughter.
I was something to hit. Something to break. Something that absorbed his rage so he didn't have to face it.
Another blow landed , this time to my stomach and I folded instantly, a broken gasp tearing from my throat. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to scream. Screaming only made him smile.
The final strike came without warning.
His fist collided with the side of my head, and white light burst behind my eyes. My body sagged, sliding helplessly down the wall until I crumpled onto the cold floor.
For a moment, there was silence.
My breath came in ragged pulls. I tasted blood. I didn't know if it was from my lip or somewhere deeper.
Then fingers tangled violently in my hair.
He yanked my head back so hard my neck burned.
"Look at me," he snarled.
I was forced to meet his eyes bloodshot, empty, cruel. His lips twisted into something that might have been a smile if it wasn't so rotten.
"Now that'll do," my father spat, loosening his grip slightly. "You look really good with the new bruises."
I swallowed the broken sound trying to escape my throat.
Ever since Mom died, this had become my life.
No.
Not life.
Survival.
Every morning, I woke up disappointed that my heart was still beating. Every night, I whispered the same prayer into the darkness.
Please, God. Let it end.
Let me die in my sleep.
Let this stop.
But Heaven was silent.
Always silent.
"Why haven't you made breakfast yet, huh?" he barked suddenly, his voice snapping through the room.
The shift was terrifying. One second, violence. The next, accusation.
I knew better than to ignore him. Silence irritated him. Silence felt like rebellion.
"There's… there's no food," I forced out, hating how weak I sounded. "We used up the last of it yesterday. And you haven't given me any money to replace it."
The second the words left my lips, regret flooded me.
His expression darkened instantly. Rage flickered in his eyes like a match being struck.
He lunged forward, grabbing my hair again and dragging me up from the floor like I weighed nothing. My scalp screamed as he forced me to stand face to face with him.
"You're talking back now?" he growled.
I braced myself.
I closed my eyes.
I prepared for the sting of his palm across my cheek.
But it never came.
Instead....
The front door burst open with a violent crash.
The sound tore through the house like thunder splitting the sky.
Both of us froze.
Dust drifted from the ceiling. The air changed. Shifted.
Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed against the cracked tiles.
My father's grip loosened.
That terrified me more than the beating.
He was afraid.
I had never seen my father afraid.
A tall, broad shouldered man stepped inside as though he owned the place. He brushed invisible dust from his coat, calm and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.
Like this house, like us, meant nothing.
My father gasped.
Not a shout.
Not a threat.
A gasp.
The stranger let out a low, dangerous chuckle.
"Ah…" he said smoothly. "So this is where you decided to hide from me?"
He glanced around the small house with mild disappointment before his gaze settled on my father.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought you were smarter than that."
I didn't dare look directly at him. I stayed crouched on the floor, frozen, my heart pounding violently against my ribs.
Whoever he was… he wasn't ordinary.
His voice alone carried weight. Authority. Power.
The kind that didn't need to shout to be obeyed.
And for the first time in years....
I felt something shift inside me.
Not hope.
Hope was too dangerous.
But something close to it.
Something that whispered quietly in the depths of my broken heart...
Everything is about to change.
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