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Rated: GC · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1491670
This is the next chapter of Sarah's Story. Enjoy!
Chapter Two


The blaring noise suddenly stopped as the engine was cut.  The car door slammed and I could hear Frank’s heavy footsteps carrying him towards the front porch.  From where I stood, I had a clear view of the front door.  The door, like the rest of the house, was old and wooden.  The porch squeaked as Frank stepped onto the platform, his shadow blocking the light from entering under the door.

I was frozen, the hose resting limply in my hand.  Josie had turned off the water, but the last of it was still trickling out the end of the hose, creating a small puddle at my feet.  I hadn’t realized that I was holding my breath until I heard Frank curse loudly as he fumbled with the keys and I gasped.  I started to exhale slowly, trying to calm myself.  We were going to find someway to get out of this alive, we had to.

Frank finally pushed his way through the door and stumbled into the house.  He was swaying slightly, obviously drunk; he turned to his right and walked unsteadily into the living room where finally sprawled onto the brown leather sofa.  My heart was beating faster and faster as I thought of his impending reaction.  Maybe he wouldn’t notice…but who was I kidding?  Most of the kitchen was missing, leaving a massive, gaping hole in the back of the house.  How could you miss it?

I slowly turned to face Josie and signaled at the hose.  She quickly understood and came to take it from me, rolling it around her elbow and setting it on the ground next to the spigot.  Then, I could hear the TV turn on, grateful for some kind of noise.  But the distraction didn’t last long.

“What smells like smoke?” Frank demanded, his voice slurring. “And where the hell is my dinner?”

I winced, there had been a slim hope that he would have passed out on the sofa and we could have slipped out in the night, but it was a very slim hope.  Frank knew everyone in town and frequently played poker with the sheriff.  Even if we did escape, there was only one town for hundreds of miles, and everyone there had been instructed to return us to Frank if we ever entered its limits.  We wouldn’t be able to survive out in the wilderness alone, there was nowhere to go.  The beating would be a lesser one if we took it now.  Escaping would just infuriate him more and the beating would be far worse.

“When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer.” His speech was slurred again, but you could hear the building annoyance.

I couldn’t think of anything to say.  He was going to be so angry!  My mind was racing, trying to think of the best way to handle it.  Josie stood a few steps behind me, terrified.  This was, by far, the worst trouble we had gotten into yet.  We never disobeyed, we were very well behaved slaves, I thought bitterly.  Frank routinely beat us to “keep us in shape” he would say, but this, this was a whole new level.  This time, he had a reason.  God knows what would happen now that he had an excuse to do so.

I turned to look at Josie again and found her trembling.  She was scared.  Here big blue eyes, wide with fright.  She looked so small, so fragile.  I would have to take the beating for this one.  I couldn’t stand the thought of Frank taking his anger out on her; she would die.

I motioned for her to stay and took a fateful step forward.

“Answer me, dammit!” Frank yelled angrily.  “Where the hell are you?!”  I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him grunt as he stood and came to find the source of the burning smell.

“I’m here.” I squeaked as I turned the corner into the living room.  I balled my shaking hands into tight fists, mentally preparing myself for the pain to come.

Frank was facing me, looking me up and down.  He was very tall and bald, the last bit of sunlight glinting off his head through the small window in the front room.  Before Martha had died, he had been very muscular and lean.  Now, his features were rounded, his once rock hard abdominals replaced with a beer belly.  There was two days worth of gray stubble covering his chin and unknown stains all over his once white shirt.  He squinted at me, unable to see clearly through the darkness and alcoholic haze. 

He studied the black smears of ash that covered my body and a puzzled expression began to fall upon his face.  We stood there for what felt like an hour, staring.  I self-consciously began to smooth my hair and clothing, hoping to distract myself more than anything else.  I could feel my cheeks flush as he leaned in closer; unable to figure out what had happened to me that made me resemble a clumsy chimney sweep.  I wrinkled my nose at the smell of his rancid breath.
         
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, genuinely confused by the sight of my charred clothing.

I was expecting anger, lots of it.  I didn’t understand what was happening.  Where was the screaming?  Where was the pain from relentless beating?  I hadn’t prepared for interrogation.

I stood silently for a few moments, I couldn’t think of a suitable response.  What was I supposed to say?  Oh nothing out of the ordinary, though we did almost burn the kitchen down.  I was stunned by his questions, he usually didn’t bother asking.  He would just get right to the point and beat us.  It was easier that way; I didn’t want to have to explain how it happened.  I would have to tell him it was Josie who had started it and I was a terrible liar.

“There was a, um, a fire, and…” I trailed off, waiting for him to hit me.  No matter how many times I had been beaten by Frank, I could never get used to it.  Every time beating seemed longer than the last one, more painful.

I closed my eyes and drew a breath, waiting.  But the blow didn’t come.  I cracked one eyelid open and cringed.

I caught a glimpse of confusion, and then comprehension.  Neither of which was the cause of my erratic heartbeat.  He was beet red.  His eyes looked as though they would pop out of his skull with rage, but he wasn’t looking at me.  He stood motionless, staring past me.  He knew where the fire had taken place.  He turned on me.

Thwack.  Right across the face.  I could feel my body lift off the ground and then crash into the wall of the hallway to my right.  My left cheek began to swell with a shape that I was sure was Frank’s palm.  It burned but I ignored the pain, this was just the beginning.  I began to brace myself but he just gazed at me with a look of disgust on his face and turned toward the kitchen.

That couldn’t be it.  That was nothing compared to previous experiences with Frank.  Then a light bulb clicked on in my head.  He was going after Josie first; he would come back to me when he had finished beating her to within an inch of her life, or worse. 

“No, not Josie!  It was my fault, all my fault!  Please, no…” I cried, dragging myself across the floor towards her.  My mind was racing.  I could not let her take the fall, he would kill her.

Frank turned to sneer at me and paused.  He began to laugh.  It was sick the way he laughed at me, at how pitiful I looked.  He was going to enjoy this.

“Maybe this will help you understand what you’ve done then.” He laughed once more and then grabbed Josie around the neck and lifted her off the ground.  He was instantly sober, concentrated on the task of murdering us.  Torture was an art to Frank, and he showed it very brutally.  I heard her whimper and then he flung her across the scorched kitchen floor.  Her head smashed into a cabinet and blood began to dye her hair a crimson color.

I lay on the ground, looking on in terror, unable to move.  The amount of blood running down Josie’s face was unreal.  She sat in a crumpled heap, staring at her palms that were filling with little pools of red.  She didn’t even cry when he strode toward her and kicked her with his steel toed boot, though she never did.  No matter how hard he hit her, I had never seen so much as a tear. 

He kicked her again in the stomach.  Her arms were curled around her head protectively, her body rolled in a tight ball.  He punched her in the back and I screamed at him to stop.  Her body sprung open with the impact and she began to scramble across the floor.  I was balling now, pleading with him. 

“Leave her alone, please!  She’s done nothing wrong.  Take me instead!” I sobbed, crawling towards him again on my knees.  I was begging and he knew it, he enjoyed it.

“You think you won’t have your share?” He guffawed, “Trust me, you’ll get your turn, you filthy wench.”

Josie was almost to the back door when he grabbed her by the back of her collar and yanked her two feet off the ground to face him.  He grunted as he shoved her head through a portion of moderately healthy wood, saved from the inferno that had destroyed well over half the kitchen.  He threw her to the ground at his feet.  She pulled her bloody body along the floorboards, leaving a trail of scarlet, like a slug leaves a trail of slime.

I stood slowly and stumbled forward, my head was spinning and my vision was blurred with tears.  Josie was going to die; there was no stopping him now. 

“Please, stop.  I’ll do anything.  Just please…stop.”  I whispered, sure that he could hear me.

He stepped forward, Josie was barely moving now.  He placed his foot on her left forearm that lay splayed out on the floor and pushed with all his weight.  I heard a sickening crack and my stomach lurched.  Josie let out a blood curdling scream.  I was shrieking in utter horror. 

I could not just stand here while I watched him beat her to death.  I had to stop him before it was too late.  I wailed and flung myself towards him.

It was like throwing myself at a brick wall, I flew into his back and he buckled.  I could feel the air rush out of my lungs on impact.  Josie lay, barely conscious, less than a foot away from me.  Frank’s head struck the cement back porch stairs and he lay still.  I knew he wouldn’t be down for long, though.

“Josie, come on, we have to hurry.” I rushed to her side and tried to ease her up.  Her eyelids were half closed, she would pass out soon.  I gently picked her broken body off the floor and gingerly slid around Frank’s massive body. 

I ran towards the barn, one thought rushing through my head:  We had to get out, now.  When he got up, there would be no chance of survival.  He would proceed to finish off Josie and would probably torture me slowly to death.  No, we could not stay here. 

I turned the corner into the barn and lay Josie’s body against the door frame.  There was a small bucket of water we used to drink from during the day sitting in the shade of a hay bale just inside the door.  There wasn’t much left.  I dipped my fingers into the bucket and dropped some onto Josie’s bloodied lips.  She moaned.

“Josie, we need to leave.  Are you able to walk?” I asked her quietly.  Most people in her state would be hospitalized but Josie was the epitome of strength.

“Mhmm,” she replied, barely audible. 

I ran to the ladder and climbed as fast as I could, stumbling on the rungs.  I searched frantically for the old potato sack that we kept near us.  I spotted the corner peeking out from under my bed and snatched it up.  I began shoving our sparse belongings into it.  Adrenaline was pumping through my veins.  I couldn’t believe it, I had not only stood up to Frank, I had knocked him unconscious and now we were leaving.  We were going to be free.  My breath was coming in short gasps.  I was excited, terrified but happy.  I was free.

Not a second after this realization had dawned on me, I heard Frank roar from the kitchen steps, pure fury ringing in every syllable.

“Sarah!” he screamed my name, the hatred dripping from my name like rain drips from a gutter.

I froze momentarily, fear gripping me, but I couldn’t stop moving now.  If I thought Frank was going to kill me before, it was now a certainty.  He would not excuse my behavior and I wasn’t ready to die, not now that I was set on escaping.

I slid down the ladder, splinters digging themselves into my hands, and jumped the last few feet to the ground.  No sooner had my feet touched earth and I was running again.  I scooped Josie into my arms and flew from the barn.  I looked back instinctively and saw Frank, blood seeping from a gash on his head, a gash I had given him, a gash he would kill me for.

His face was contorted in pain and anger.  His upper lip was pulled back over his teeth leaving them bared.  His eyes were bloodshot, though barely visible in the darkness.  I could feel every fiber of my being telling me to sprint faster but I was weighed down by Josie. 

Maybe I should leave her, she’s nearly dead anyway, you still have a chance.  The thought occurred to me briefly, but I rejected it in disgust.  I would not leave her.  We were in this together, if I left her, she would most certainly die.  I would not leave her to that fate.  I had already unintentionally committed her to the relentless beatings that came in addition to life with Frank; I would not sacrifice her for myself.  Then run faster.  This second thought I listened to, only touching the ground with the balls of my feet, moving faster across the dry fields then I ever had before.

         I hadn’t realized where I was until I could feel a sudden coolness swirl around my ankles.  I breathed in the mist, inhaling a sweet, piney, scent.  The forest was less than a meter to my left as I ran along side it.  The smell and the cold were inviting.  What are you so worried about?  Come and rest with us.  Come… 

The trees spoke to me soothingly.  Rest, the word was torture to my thoughts.  It was like the torment I felt when I begged for the sweet relief of cool water on a scorching day when I knew it would never come.  My pace began to slow, my limbs growing tired.  No, my mind snapped back.  Trees could not talk.  My sanity had begun to slip away in my panic.  I would not stop now.  I had to keep going.

          I quickened my feet, pumping my arms furiously, trying to increase my speed, but Josie stumbled, unable to keep up.  I could see her eyes begin to roll back into her head, she was barely holding on.  The thought of leaving her made my heart wrench painfully, so I scooped her up into my arms, her unexpected weight caught me off guard but I pushed myself even harder.  I was quite fast.  Frank was faster.

         Out of nowhere heavy footfalls boomed behind me, sending a surge of fear through my stomach.  Panic began to flood my mind and my senses.  Though I normally had good balance, my feet had decided to betray me.  In my haste, the toe of my sandal had caught on the edge of a small ditch and Josie flew from my arms to land in a broken ball.  My ankle let out a sickening crack and I heard a loud, shrill, scream fill the night.  I bit my lip and realized that the scream had come from my own mouth.  Pain shot up my leg, leaving me immobile. I could see Josie’s young face illuminated by the sliver of moonlight ahead of me.  I was sprawled on the dead grass, my forehead resting on the back of my hand trying to think through the throbbing agony.

         I reached my free hand down to touch my injured ankle and peeked at it under my arm.  And Frank was there, less than a few yards behind me, striding slowly, victoriously, towards me.  My stomach lurched involuntarily; my heart began to beat faster, as if it knew it were pumping the last bit of life into me. 

         I tried to crawl away from him, but my leg was not about to let me go pain free.  I bit my lip even harder, stopping the scream, but drawing blood.  I moved towards Josie’s limp outline, focusing on the need to escape though I knew it was over, I was as god as dead, the only thing left to stop was my heartbeat.  He had won, and he knew it.  All I could hope for was that he would be merciful and end it quickly.  I reached Josie.  She was unconscious, but I could hear her shallow breathing.  Maybe he would let her live, maybe I would satisfy his bloodlust.

         Wispy clouds began to float across the thumbnail of a moon, casting the plains into complete darkness.  I paused, gasping for air, letting my eyes adjust to the sudden blackness.  The bright sliver showed itself again and shed its light on Frank’s maniacal features.  Blood, mixed with sweat, streaked down the side of his face, the gash was fully visible now and it was deep.  He looked ragged, crazed.  He was insane with rage.

         I was paralyzed, unsure of what to do.  Was it worth it to run?  No.  I would not give him the satisfaction of the hunt.  I could feel the mist blow across my face, leaving the same pine scent in my nostrils.  The smell was strangely calming considering the circumstances.

         I let my eyelids fall and exhaled.  I could hear him standing over me; I could imagine his face staring down at me in glee as he prepared for his final blow.  It would all be over soon.

         He grunted as he kicked me with all the force he possessed.  I could feel the rupture of some internal organ, though I didn’t bother to think which one.  The sharp pain in my side was magnified when I landed.  I refused to scream, shoving my fist into my mouth, biting down hard.  It wouldn’t be much longer.

         His foot collided again with the right side of my stomach and I heard multiple cracks, at least three ribs I was guessing.  The blow forced me to remove my fist and gasp for air and I winced in pain. I held my abdomen, trying to catch my breath as he grabbed my hair and smash the side of my head with a rock he must have found on the ground.  I could feel the blood seeping through my hair, making it sticky, and dripping down my face.  A breeze brushed my face lightly as the trees in front of me began to dissolve into blackness.  I smiled in relief as my pain began to subside.  Frank dropped my head and backed away, getting a running start as he kicked me yet again, flipping me partially into the forest and crushing my forearm.

         “You idiot girl.  What did you think?  That you could escape?  Where would you go?  No one else would take you.  You’re just a selfish ungrateful bitch, you know that?”  He spit on my face before he continued, “you were lucky I took you in and this is how you repay me? You burn half my fuckin’ house down, attack me, and try to run off?  This is less than you deserve, believe you me.  I’m bein’ merciful.”

His rant ended.  He was done now, not wasting much time on my killing.  I could hear him turn to leave and a dragging sound that I couldn’t identify.  He left me there to die.  I didn’t want to think about it anymore, there was too much pain.  It hurt to breathe, so much so that I wish I could stop but it was involuntary.  It came in short, excruciating, gasps.  I just wanted to drift into the welcoming darkness.    My mouth filled with blood and I reflexively tried to cough it up but my position made it difficult to do anything of the sort.  My attempts were rewarded with the substance bubbling uselessly on my lips.  I spluttered, spitting half heartedly.  Even this small movement was greeted with unbearable agony. 

The evergreens whispered to me, they told me to relax, the torment was over.  I let my body sink into the darkness of night.  Lay on my back, staring up, the moon obscured, and let myself be utterly enveloped.  The moon appeared, to say its last goodbye.  I squinted against the unexpected illumination just as a shadow stepped in to block the light.

He was an angel, come to take me to heaven, he must be.  His face was perfect and angular, his hair was a deep shade of brown and fluttered in the forests soothing draft.  His stunning beauty took my breath away.  My eyesight began to dim as I lost consciousness but now I struggled against it.  I wanted to continue to study his angelic face which was flawless in every feature.  I gazed into his eyes and saw that though they were, like his hair, also a deep brown.  They were troubled, almost anxious.  I tried to lift my hand to touch his face to tell him everything was fine but I could no longer move my limbs.  Blackness began to appear as shadows blurring my vision

He lifted me effortlessly and a feeling of calm overwhelmed me.  His worried eyes continued to stare into mine as I finally slipped into unconsciousness.
© Copyright 2008 Rachel Kelley (r.kelley at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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