Chapter 197 The Ghost of Sarina
>>Azef
I shook my head at her, “I don’t know,” I lied with my eyes wide open, “I don’t know why she did that!” I actually had no idea why she did that.
Maybe she just wanted me to be seen. Maybe it was something else. I would never know.
She came and grabbed my mouth, “You’re lying,” I grimaced as her smelly breath made its way to me, “You’re a little lying bitch! All men are,”
I shook my head in denial, “No,” I could never tell her Sarina was coming here.
Never
She threw me on the mattress violently, “Liar!” Then she took another swig from the bottle, the alcohol burning its way down her throat, intensifying the fire within.
“Damn you!” She screamed, her voice raw and desperate, reverberating off the walls. Her hand shook as she raised the bottle again, but when she tried to drink from it again, she realized it was empty.
With a sudden, violent motion, she hurled the bottle across the room. It shattered against the wall behind me, making me flinch violently. With a satisfying crash, the shards spread out in all directions yet I didn’t move from my position. I kept laying where I was without a sound even after a shard cut through me.
The sound of breaking glass seemed to release something within her, and she let out a guttural, anguished cry. She grabbed at her hair, her fingers tangling in the gray strands, pulling hard enough to make her scalp sting. Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let them fall.
“Why?” she sobbed, her voice cracking. “Why did you do this to me?” I already knew she was mentally never okay.
She dropped to her knees, her body shaking with rage and despair. She clawed at the floor, her nails scraping against the wood, leaving angry red marks.
She screamed again, a primal, heart-wrenching sound, her hands gripping her hair so tightly that it felt like she might tear it out.
I bit my lips while I watched her silently.
She then brought her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth, the motion somehow soothing in its repetitiveness.
Her sobs quieted, turning into soft, hiccupping breaths. She let go of her hair, her hands falling limp at her sides. The fight had drained out of her, leaving her empty and hollow.
“AH~ Fu” She cursed, “That bastard,” She was looking at the ceiling with a deranged look in her eyes, “You’ll never be happy!”
She roughly rubbed the corner of her eyes and stood up. Then she walked out of my room.
I watched her
With her gone, silence came over my room again. But there was one thing on my mind as I looked in the direction she had left.
She left the door open.
The window was something I had opened. So I never dared to step out of it because I was afraid, but she left the door open on her own.
She did it.
Not me
So, I could go out, right?
I had my backpack on me. One I used to take to school. It was one, small, and tattered. But I wanted to use it for something. I ran outside, first to the place where Sarina’s bloody shoe was. I picked it up and put it in the bag.
Then I went out to the road, to look for something else. I had no idea if I could find anything or not, but I wanted to look.
There was one thing specifically I was looking for.
A finger
I don’t remember clearly, but I saw that her finger was gone when her father held her.
I searched around the corners, near the gutters. And surprisingly, it didn’t take me long to find it. A finger was stuck there between the open space of the gutter and I pulled it out. Then I put that in my bag too.
I looked around the place.
Sarina had told me about a park near here which her family visited often. I wondered if I could find it.
I looked back at my house.
With how much she drank, she most likely would have passed out.
I’ll be back fast!
I turned around and walked away
I sat atop a small hill, my frame hunched over as I thought about Sarina. Her loss left a hollow ache in my chest that I couldn't escape.
The park was nice. I wish I could have come here with her.
I was lost in my memories, I wasn’t paying attention to anything. My mind was dizzy too. I hadn’t eaten much in days. Maybe I should go back, see if there’s anything to eat in the kitchen.
“Hey!” Someone tapped on my shoulder and I turned to look at her.
!!!!
It was a girl! No, it was Sarina! My heart skipped a beat when I saw her and my eyes went wide
What was happening?
Sarina is dead!
My heart raced. Her face, so familiar and yet so impossible, filled me with sheer terror. It was like staring into the eyes of a ghost. My breath caught in my throat, and my body went rigid with fear.
I gasped loudly, my expression twisting in horror. I couldn’t process what was happening. All I knew was that I had to get away. Instinct took over, and I pushed her away with all the strength I had. She stumbled, the world around her blurring as she tumbled down the hillside.
I watched in horror as she collided with a sharp rock, a vivid streak of red marking her descent. She landed with a thud, her body sprawled on the grass below. My breath caught in my throat as I saw the blood seeping through her clothes, her hands clutching at the wound.
Panic gripped me tighter. I couldn't understand what had just happened. I stood frozen, looking down at her with wide eyes. She was upside down from my vantage point, her face contorted in pain and confusion.
My vision blurred. I rubbed my eyes to look at her again but right then someone yanked my body away
!?!?!?
I couldn’t comprehend it right away but I felt the pain even before I saw what was happening!
My wrist was tightly gripped and I was being dragged away. I looked at the person who was taking me with her and then my heart fell.
It was my mother.
“M-mom,” Dread filled me to the core, “Mom!” She ignored me then. I tried to get away from her but she wouldn’t let me.
She dragged me all the way to the house. Slammed the main door shut, then brought me back to my room and slammed my body on the wall.
“You filthy little liar,” She lifted me up making it hard to breathe, “That girl was coming here to meet you,”
“What?” She held me with my collar but that’s when I noticed the open window.
Oh no
My skin went pale. But what further unnerved me was the things Sarina had left behind. They were no longer under my mattress, but on top of them.
My pupils shook at the sight.
“That’s right, you little bitch,” She slapped me, “I know everything.” She slapped me again, “It’s your fault that kid died!!” Her words stung, “It’s your fault he left me!!!” She slapped me even harder, making my cheek burn and bleed, “You useless ingrate!!!”
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes.
I guess the anger inside of her didn’t die. I thought she might have left the door open accidentally. But no, she left it open on purpose. She was waiting for me to leave so she could drag me back and have an excuse to torture me.
I lay on the cold, hard ground, every inch of my body screaming in pain. My face throbbed, the left side swollen so badly that I could barely open my eye. The bruise stretched from my temple to my cheek, a deep, angry purple that felt like fire under my skin. I tried to touch it, but the effort sent a fresh wave of pain through my arm, making me gasp.
My arms felt like they were on fire. Bruises covered them, each one a reminder of the blows I tried to block. My forearms were especially bad, purple and blue splotches spreading like a grim map of the beating I had taken. My knuckles were raw and scraped, the skin torn from trying to fight back, even though it hadn’t done any good.
Breathing hurt. Every breath felt like knives stabbing into my ribs, where deep bruises made each inhale a struggle. I could feel the tender, swollen skin shift with every painful breath, and I tried to stay as still as possible to keep from aggravating the pain.
My torso was a mess. I could barely bring myself to look, but I knew it was covered in large, ugly bruises. They were dark and uneven, each one marking where a fist or a foot had landed. My legs were no better, the skin mottled with bruises and welts, a particularly nasty one just above my knee where I had been kicked. I tried to move my leg, but the pain was too much, forcing me to stay still.
I felt a shiver run through me, a mix of pain and fear. My body trembled uncontrollably, and I couldn’t stop it. Every movement, no matter how slight, sent jolts of agony through me. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the pain, but it was impossible.
My mind was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, anger, and a deep, overwhelming exhaustion. I felt the tears well up, but I bit them back.
Since that day, she locked me in the upper floor, the window of which are barred. I would rarely see the light of the day and she’d give me food once, every now and then, just to keep me alive.
I heard the door open and turned my head in that direction.
There she stood, my mother with a bowl of rice in her hands. She looked at me with a dead look in her eyes.
“I can’t have you dead,” The look in her eyes was always hollow. She had started doing too many drugs, “I don’t have money to spare to bury you,” She paused, “And I can’t have the death of my own kid on my conscience.” She clicked her tongue, “Useless thing. If only your father didn’t run away after getting me pregnant.”
I just watched her quietly as she stood by the door. When I didn’t answer her, she threw the food towards me. The bowl hit my head and the rice in it spread all over the place.
She left, slamming the door behind her.
I lacked energy but I couldn’t afford not to eat. So, I moved slowly and picked up the scrambled food from the floor and ate it.
It tasted like dust…