Chapter 90
Hunter
Age five.
Mum left.
But she promised she’d come back for me.
And from the window in my bedroom, I saw that she kept her promise.
She came.
Father says she hates us.
Says she left because she never wanted me and that she’s got a new family now.
A new husband, a little boy.
That she replaced me.
He uses lots of other words too.
Cheat, whore, bitch.
But if mum hates father, that doesn’t mean she hates me too.
Right?
Because she came.
I watch her cross the driveway, but she keeps looking over her shoulder as if she’s frightened of something.
I don’t understand why.
Father isn’t home.
At least I don’t think he is.
I lose sight of her the moment she steps inside the house.
Then, a few minutes later, a car pulls into the driveway.
My stomach drops.
Father climbs out.
Oh no.
He said she wouldn’t come for me.
But she did.
I’m confused.
I watch father enter the house and immediately run to my bedroom door.
When I try the handle, it doesn’t open.
Right.
It’s locked.
Father does that a lot.
Whenever I misbehave, he locks me in my room for days.
Sometimes longer.
But mum is here now.
Mum is actually here.
A horrible thought creeps into my head.
What if she didn’t come for me after all?
What if she leaves again before I get the chance to see her?
Maybe if I talk to her, she’ll take me with her this time.
I can be good.
I can be friends with the little boy she has now.
I keep pulling at the handle, but it doesn’t matter how hard I try, the door won’t budge.
My eyes move to the balcony.
I rush to the other side of the room, push open the door and step outside.
Leaning over the railing, I look down.
It’s the second floor, not impossibly high, but high enough that jumping isn’t really an option.
My eyes move to the balcony beside mine.
The guest room.
At least I think it is.
And if I’m lucky, maybe the door is unlocked.
I study the gap between the two balconies. It’s not that far.
The edge of the house runs between them, just broad enough to serve as a path.
I climb onto the stone railing and slowly step out.
One foot and then the other.
My hand stays pressed against the wall, though I know it’s pointless. You can’t really hold on to a flat wall. It’s just something to do while I try not to look down.
The only thing stopping me from falling is my balance.
I move slowly and carefully.
When I finally reach the next balcony, I breathe out in relief and grab the railing.
My foot slips. For one second, my stomach drops and the ground rushes towards me. I manage to catch myself, hanging awkwardly.
My arms burn, but I hold on and pull myself up.
The moment both feet land safely on the balcony, I look down.
“Phew. That was close.”
I almost died.
Actually, no.
I probably wouldn’t have died.
I’d have broken something.
Maybe ended up with a bloody nose and a scraped knee.
Blood.
I like seeing my blood.
It’s nice.
Maybe I should…
A scream rips me from my thoughts.
I snap my head towards the room and take off running.
When I reach the door and try the handle, it opens.
Huh.
That’s good.
I make my way towards the stairs as quietly as I can.
The screams grow louder and stronger.
My stomach twists.
Is that mum?
Why is she screaming?
I take the last step and follow the sound through the house.
The closer I get, the louder it becomes.
I push the door open a fraction and peer inside.
Mum is on the floor.
There’s blood everywhere.
But I don’t like her blood.
Not the way I like mine.
No.
I hate it.
I hate seeing it on her.
A man stands over her and drives his foot into her side.
She cries out.
The man shifts slightly… enough for me to see his profile.
Father.
My chest does a strange flip.
A horrible feeling grips me.
Like I’m losing something important, something I can never get back.
And suddenly it’s father’s blood I want to see.
His hands are around mum’s throat now, he’s squeezing.
I’m rooted to the spot.
Why can’t I move?
Move.
Move.
Just move.
Mum struggles beneath him, but then her hand slips from his arm and falls limply to the floor.
“No!” I scream.
The sound bursts from me as I launch myself at father.
His head snaps in my direction, his brows furrow the moment he sees me.
He lets go of mum and rises to his feet.
I start hitting him, punching him and doing anything I can. But he catches me by the hair and throws me away from him.
“Mum!” I scream. “Mommy!”
My eyes dart back to her, she’s not moving.
Not moving at all.
I look up at father.
“Why isn’t she moving?” I ask.
“She’s dead,” he says simply.
“Dead?” I stare at him. “Why would she be dead?”
The horror crawls over me as I look from him to mum.
“You... you killed my mommy?”
“She tried to take you away from me.”
He doesn’t get to say anything else.
I scream and throw myself at him again, hitting whatever I can reach.
“Enough!” he roars before shoving me away so hard I crash onto the floor.
“You should have stayed in your room where you belong. I don’t know how you got out, but now that you’re here, listen carefully. You will keep your mouth shut, because if you ever open it and tell anyone what happened here, you’ll end up exactly like her.”
His eyes flick towards mum.
My chest tightens until it hurts.
“I’ll kill you,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’ll grow up and I’ll kill you. I hate you.”
I launch myself at him again, but this time he punches me.
Pain explodes through my face and I taste blood.
The force sends me sprawling back onto the marble.
“I’ll tell the police,” I spit out.
His foot slams into my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs and folding me in half.
“You’ll do no such thing.”
“I will.”
He hits me again.
“It’s amusing that you think you’ll ever leave this house. I’ve been far too lenient with you. You’re moving to the basement for the foreseeable future.”
“Go to hell.”
He clicks his tongue.
“Where does a child your age learn language like that?”
“I’ll tell,” I repeat.
The next blow lands against my head.
Then another.
And another.
“No, you fucking won’t. I could kill you the same way I killed your pathetic mother, or I could break you slowly. I could beat you, starve you, chain you up until you forget your own name. Or you can stop fighting and do as you’re told. We could be allies, son.”
Something hard collides with the back of my head.
My face hits the marble floor.
For a moment, all I can do is stare at the white stone beneath me as my blood spreads over it.
It’s nice.
I like my blood.
Then I look at mum.
Her eyes are still open.
But she’s dead.
Her blood stains the marble too.
No.
I don’t like that.
And that’s the last thing I see before everything goes dark.