Invisible Prison
1342 Words
John´s POV
It's been a long day. Exhausting. Neither Sâmia nor I want to get out of the car. The silence between us is heavy, suffocating. But we can't stay here forever. We know what awaits us on the other side of that door. Since Mom died, everything has gotten worse. In fact, it wasn't much different before. Our father always did what he wanted with us. But with her here, things seemed... less unbearable. More sustainable.
I sigh and hold out my hand to my sister. It's not easy going back to a prison without bars.
- Shall we? - I whisper.
She looks at me hesitantly before accepting. Her fingers are cold.
- I don't want to go in, John. - Her voice comes out in a whisper. - We're already in the car... You could just speed away from here. Forget that we're Morrisons, forget that we're the children of an Alpha. We could be nobody. Just for one night...
I swallow. I understand her desire. I've thought about it myself so many times.
- Don't cry. You know he doesn't like that,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. - Let's go in, talk to him and see what he wants.
- You know very well what he wants, John. - Her tone is sarcastic, but there's pain in every word. - He just wants to make us suffer. He thinks we're puppets he can manipulate at will. But we're not. We're adults now. We could demand shelter in another pack. Someone would accept us.
I shake my head.
- No one will want to create a war against Thunder Claw. It would be a hopeless case. And when our father found us, it would be even worse. You know he will, don't you?
Sâmia doesn't answer.
- We'll put up with it. Like we've always had to since we were little. Mom taught us to be strong, just like her.
With one last look at her, I get out of the car. I hear her sigh shakily before I do the same.
As soon as we enter the house, the air seems to weigh us down. The silence is absolute, but we know he's here. He always is.
Berta greets us at the entrance. The Moon Goddess knows how grateful we are for her. Berta has wiped away many of our tears and treated many of our wounds.
- My dears... - She embraces us. Her touch is warm, but it can't chase away the cold inside me. - I'm glad you're all well.
Her eyes scan our faces with concern. Then her voice drops to a whisper:
- Please try not to upset him. Things aren't going well.
We just nod. We don't need to ask what happened. We already know.
- “All right, Berta,” I whisper. - Let's not upset him.
- At least...” Sâmia sighs. - No more than we already are.
Berta puts her hand to her mouth, shocked.
- Oh, my dear... I'll come and look after you first thing tomorrow. But for today... He's dismissed me. In fact, he's dismissed all the employees.
My stomach turns.
- “Except the guards,” I say gloomily.
Sâmia squeezes my hand.
- So there won't be any witnesses,” she whispers.
I don't answer. I just take her hand back and we go into the office.
The atmosphere is dense, charged with tension. My father is sitting behind his desk, motionless, staring at us. The look in his eyes is pure contempt.
- Good evening, Dad,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
No reply. Just that look. And we know what comes next.
- I'd like to know where I went wrong in raising you. - His voice finally breaks the silence. - Ever since Isis died, I've done everything I could to get you on the right track. But you only disappoint me.
I swallow.
- You have no idea the shame you're putting me through. Two incompetent adults with no companions! Twenty-four years, twenty-seven years... Two failures! You tarnish my name, my morals. But at least you don't tarnish my strength. After all, I don't need two good-for-nothings like you.
Every word is a blow. I see Sâmia lower her head, her shoulders shaking.
- Aren't you going to say anything? - He leans back in his chair. - As usual, am I the one doing the monologues around here?
I take a deep breath, trying to keep control.
- Dad, it was my mistake,” I say cautiously. - But it's fixed now. It'll never happen again, I swear.
My heart is racing and sweat is running down the back of my neck.
- You swear too much, John. - His tone is pure disdain. - I think you've sworn twice today alone. But you never keep it. Sometimes I wonder if you really are my son. Because you behave like a weakling.
He then turns to Sâmia .
- What about you? Are you going to keep quiet? You've always been the fragile little girl who cries because she has an unjust and cruel father, haven't you?
Sâmia lifts her face, tears running down her cheeks.
- Dad... Lina and I just wanted a quiet weekend. I had no intention of disrespecting you...
- Intention? - He laughs, but there's no humor in it. - You never intend anything, do you? How many dinners, how many dates have I organized for you? And nothing. To this day you haven't managed to find an Alpha.
She shudders.
- Dad... I'm waiting for my partner. None of these men...
- Shut up, it's not about love, Sâmia . It's about duty. Politics. A woman gets married because it's her job. Her duty is to strengthen the family. I'm not asking you to love someone. Just get married. Can't you even do that properly?
Sâmia sobs. The silence that follows is unbearable.
So, he decides.
— That's enough. I'll find a husband for you myself. And a wife for John, by the way, she's already chosen.
— What?! — Sâmia's eyes widen. — This is absurd! None of us want to…
She doesn't finish her sentence. My father moves quickly, and the crack of the slap echoes through the room. She falls to the floor, but doesn't scream. We've already learned to be beaten in silence, or to try our best, Sâmi has always been the one who suffered the most, after all, she's been living this torment for years.
— Dad, there's no need for this… — I try to get closer, but I'm greeted with a punch that makes me stagger.
The taste of blood fills my mouth.
— Shut up! I'm the father. You're the son. Accept your punishment.
He then turns to Sâmia.
— Now, leave. I want to talk to your sister alone.
She gives me a pleading look, but there's nothing I can do. I just lower my head and leave.
The minutes that follow are hell. I hear the screams, the sobs, the blows. My chest tightens in despair. Sometimes I think that the best thing for us would be to find a way to escape from all this, but who would take us in? Without the protection of a pack, we would be easy targets.
The best I can do is sit here huddled and wait for him to get tired and continue to feel this agony in my chest, hoping that he ends as soon as possible and doesn't kill her.
I put my hands together, praying.
"Goddess of the Moon... please don't let him kill my sister. I don't know what we did."
Then, the door opens. My father appears, dragging Sâmia's unconscious body as if it were a garbage bag.
"Your turn."
I look up. My fate is already sealed.
"No screaming," he orders.
I swallow hard.
— Yes, sir. No shouting. No fighting back.
And I enter my personal hell.
- Writer
