Tangled In Darkness

Chapter2

“Take her away.”

Lydia jolted awake to her father’s cold, commanding voice. Two rough-looking men were already lifting her mother’s lifeless body from the mat.

She lunged forward, grabbing desperately at the edge of her mother’s blood-stained cloth. One of the men shoved her hard, sending her sprawling across the floor.

“Throw her in the cursed forest,” her father ordered, his voice completely void of emotion.

Lydia’s eyes widened in terror.

“The cursed forest? Father, that place is full of wild beasts and forbidden creatures! They’ll—”

“Shut up, you stupid cursed child!” he snarled, eyes blazing with rage.

Lydia clamped her mouth shut instantly. She knew better than to test him; one more word and she could lose her head.

She could only watch helplessly as the men carried her mother’s body out of the house, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” she whispered, voice breaking. “I couldn’t do anything… I’m so useless. Please forgive me.”

Lydia had no friends in the village and no other family she could turn to—except her uncle from her father’s side, the one who always tried to touch her inappropriately. Her mother had been the only one who ever protected her from him. Now that she was gone, Lydia had no one left to shield her.

“I have no one to defend me if that evil man comes here,” she muttered to herself, still sobbing as she gathered her mother’s clothes and carefully folded them into a small bag. She planned to wear them once she grew into them.

“What are you doing, you brat?” her father barked, storming into the room. He snatched the bag from her hands.

“They’re Mother’s clothes,” Lydia said, standing up quickly.

“I’m not blind, little girl. What do you want with them?” He gave her a venomous look that sent chills down her spine.

“I plan to wear them when I’m older,” she replied, lowering her head to avoid his piercing gaze.

“These expensive clothes? You think you deserve them?” he sneered. “You’re so stupid. Get out of here right now!”

Lydia bolted from the room, sobbing.

Alone in the room, her father mimicked her in a cruel, high-pitched voice, “I plan on wearing them when I’m older,” then burst into psychotic laughter. “I’m going to sell these clothes, and there’s nothing that scared little rat can do about it.”

Lydia’s blood boiled with rage and bitterness. She slipped into the kitchen, picked up the sharpest knife she could find, and crept silently behind him, hands trembling violently. She had never even killed a rat before, but her anger gave her courage.

Just as she got close enough to strike, he spun around and kicked her square in the stomach. She stumbled backward, crashing to the floor. The knife clattered beside her.

He picked up the blade and stalked toward her slowly. At that moment, Lydia knew she was dead.

She tried scrambling away, but he stomped on her foot, pinning her in place. “Move one more inch,” he growled, “and I’ll cut your throat.”

Lydia’s eyes widened in pure terror, frozen in fear.