Silent Desires (Shattered Silence Duet Book 1)
Silent Desires: Chapter 55

I hate having to go back to my house after spending the last few hours with several of my new… friends. They provide me with such a strong sense of safety and security. I almost told them everything, about my mother, about the marks on my back, about Simon. But they were all trying so hard to make me smile and keep things positive that I didn’t want to bring down the atmosphere.

But I’m starting to think it’s time to tell them. I still worry about their reactions to what I’ve been through, but after seeing how they reacted to Brad attacking me today, I don’t think they would blame me for what’s happened. I had thought Brad attacking me was my fault, but they didn’t seem to think so.

Would they actually be able to protect me from Simon? From my mother and Jeff? They are constantly telling me they will help me with anything and I’m starting to believe them. As I see my driveway up ahead and worry fills me I make a decision, tomorrow, at lunch, when I’m at their house with all seven of them, I’m going to tell them the truth, even if they hate me for it. It’s time I get out of this house and away from the people who only cause my harm.

Before I enter my house, I make sure I’m not wearing the hoodie and my braids are intact. Check and check. I open the door and step in, taking my shoes off quietly and hoping I can get to the basement unheard. I don’t want dinner, and want nothing more than to just have a quiet night, maybe texting my friends for a while before I fall asleep.

The kitchen is clear, so I let out a breath of relief and head down the basement stairs. The second both my feet reach the bottom, I feel the sting of a slap across my cheek. It’s enough to knock me off my feet. Placing my palm against my cheek to try to soothe the pain, I look up in surprise at my mother’s angry face.

“You stupid little whore! You fucking useless brat!” She kicks me in my bruised side, making me groan. She kicks out again, making me whimper as I curl up into a ball, trying to protect myself as best as I can. She is furious and drunk, a bad combination.

“Did you think if you whore yourself out to some boy, he would take you away from here? That he will save you?” What is she talking about?

“The principal called and told me what happened.” Oh no. “That you tried to seduce a boy and when you were caught, you turned the blame on him.” What? That’s what the principal told her? Didn’t she see the police report?

She grabs my hair and yanks my head back, spitting in my face as she speaks. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t keep your head down and your mouth shut.” she slams my head into the cement floor, causing a sharp pain to go through my head and my vision blurs. I try to crawl away, but she grabs my ankle and pulls me back. I watch her pull something out of her back pocket and my breath hitches with fear.

It’s a knife. It’s small, about two inches long, but that doesn’t stop me from shaking with worry. There is a crazy gleam in her eyes. I’ve never seen her this angry before. She takes a step towards me and I know if I don’t get out of here, she might kill me this time.

I try to crawl away backwards but she jumps on top of me, screaming. “Whore! You’ve ruined everything!” I grab her knife hand with both of mine to keep it away from my face. Her other hand goes around my throat and she squeezes. I don’t want to let go of her knife hand, but I can’t breathe. As my vision darkens, I watch a cruel smile grow on her face.

She lets go of my throat and punches me across the face. I cough up blood to the side. Then the knife is plunged into my shoulder and I hiss in pain, trying to push her away with no luck. I watch her pull the knife out, and she moves her arm so quickly, I can’t even track her movement. But I feel it. She’s stabbed me in the side, making me scream in my head and wishing I could scream out loud. I try to roll her off of me, but I’m dizzy, weak and she has at least sixty pounds on me. She slashes across the top of my chest, then back again.

As I whimper in pain, my hands flail uselessly as I try to stop her. I struggle to breathe from pain, pressure, and fear. She punches me again, and it takes almost all the fight out of me. I can barely even struggle now. All I can do is try to breathe around a mouthful of blood as I watch her slowly trail the knife over me, as if she’s deciding what to cut next.

“Hmm… Maybe I’ll take an eye,” she says, holding the knife only an inch away from my left eye. I try to hold still, praying she won’t be that cruel. I have a small moment of relief when she moves the knife down to my ear.

“Or an ear,” she ponders, before trailing it down my arm to my left hand, which is laying limply beside me. Turning my head, I’m able to glance down as I try to move my fingers, but they barely twitch. It’s the same arm she just stabbed me in, she must have damaged something important if I can’t move it. She holds the knife over my ring finger, then turns to me and sneers.

“It’s not like you’ll ever be needing this finger,” she says with a smirk. She doesn’t even hesitate as she plunges the knife into my finger, below the knuckle. My mouth opens in pain, but no sound escapes. The tears pour from my eyes and I watch her lift my hand to get a better angle as she literally saws my finger off.

I turn my head to the side, the need to vomit overwhelming, but instead I start to choke and cough through the pain. When I finally regain my breathing again, she’s done.

“There!” she says happily, dropping my severed finger to the ground beside my hand. I stare at it with a mix of horror and acceptance. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so weak and useless, I can’t even lift a hand to stop her.

She stands up, glaring down at me as looks over my body. I just lay there trying to breathe and stop the panic from taking over. Is this it? Is this the moment she finally kills me? I try to blink away the black spots in my vision.

She seems to be very interested in my legs, and I guess they are too pristine for her liking because she starts covering them with thin cuts as she whispers about making my outsides match my insides. The cuts aren’t deep, but they’re still painful. But I’m exhausted, broken and can barely move. She easily holds down one leg at a time as she makes the cuts. A part of my mind worries that she can’t expect me to hide these injuries at school, which means I’m not going back. She’s either going to kill me, or she’s never letting me out of this basement again. I’m honestly not sure which I’d prefer right now.

She cut up the side of my hip, through my skirt and underwear. She tosses my kilt open, leaving the scrap of underwear in place. Straddling my legs, she holds the knife over my stomach as she grins at me. I can see the crazy glint in her eyes. She’s enjoying this.

“I just want to make sure there is no chance of you creating more demon spawn like you,” she whispers before slowly and painfully plunging the knife into my stomach. I tilt my head back in pain as my good hand clutches at the cold cement floor, willing this to be over with quickly. She leans towards my face, tilting the knife to create a bigger wound.

I cough and turn my head to the side and see blood come out as I splutter. She must have hit something important. I’m not going to survive this. I know it. I just wish I had the chance to tell the guys I was sorry for not telling them everything. Telling them about my crappy life, my sadistic mother, my psychotic brother, my father who abandoned me, and the demon that taints my soul.

Finally, after what feels like forever, she stands up. “If you survive the night, there will be a first aid kit waiting for you upstairs.” She tells me in a calm voice. Then she drops to a knee and stabs the knife in my other shoulder, making me open my mouth in another silent scream. This time she leaves it there as she stands and walks upstairs, humming to herself happily.

I look at the knife but it’s in my right shoulder and I can’t reach it with my right hand. My left is still unresponsive at my side. A sob bursts out of me, which just makes a spray of blood come out. I’m so stupid. I should have asked for help when I had the chance. I never should have come back here today, I should have told them and stayed with them.

This is it, I’m not going to survive this. My vision darkens and I welcome the peace that it’ll bring. Before it completely takes over, though, my mind flicks to thoughts of my seven guys. I picture each of their faces, their smiles, their laughs, the looks they give me, their hugs, their kind words.

Atlas… He made me promise him something important. What was it?

All you have to do is ask for help.

Sniffling, I wish I had done that, I wish I had asked.

But my mind suddenly catches on a nugget of hope—My phone! It’s in my bag.

I look around as best I can and almost cry with relief when I replace it a few feet to my right. Slowly, I wiggle myself over, one painstaking inch at a time until I can grab the corner. I pull it closer and almost scream at the pain in my shoulder where the knife’s still stuck. My fingers reach in and when I feel my phone, I wrap them around it as hard as I can, pulling it free. My tears come harder each step closer I get to reaching Atlas.

The longest moment of my life is waiting for my phone to switch on while I try to keep myself conscious. I can feel my body trying to shut down. I mentally slap myself and wiggle my toes to remember I am still here, still alive, still awake. Relief surges through me when my screen comes on, giving me the energy to finish this.

I have to do it with one hand, and the darkness is closing in, so I do the fastest thing I could think of. All it would take is two clicks. Contacts. Atlas. I hear it ring as it falls from my fingers near my face. I try to turn my face as close to it as possible. He picks up after only one ring.

“Malishka?”

A sob bursts out of me.

“Mina? What is it? Are you okay? Tap for me, Malishka,” he begs, sounding terrified. I try to move my hand, but it’s unresponsive now and I whimper in fear. I need to ask him for help.

“Mina!?” he yells through the phone.

The blackness is so close now, I’m almost out of time. I take a deep breath and in a raspy, painful voice I whisper the one word I hope he will understand. “Help.”