The Dream Demon

Chapter 2 - Polo

I straightened my back, gathered my thoughts and calmly wiped the tears from my eyes. I should have known that this would happen. It always does. No matter how well I answer, or how good I do - My father will always make an excuse as to why I deserve being punished. According to him I'm 'too arrogant', 'too vain' or 'too clever for my own good'.

The words and slaps hurt so much more, when coming from the one person you want to please more than anything.

I let my feet take me upstairs to my sanctuary, my bedroom. I walked silently spotting Joshua on the landing with a smug smile plastered on his face. For someone who looked so angelic, he sure had the personality of a devil. He would always bask in the knowledge that he was my parent's favorite child. Me receiving a slap here and there would only make him all the more happier.

"Ooooh! Now that looks painful" he teased, whilst walking to his bedroom.

"Nothing new there" I muttered under my breath, whilst walking past him.

He grabbed my arm with such force, that I just knew I'd be left with yet another bruise.

"You will never be better than me, Abigail. You are nothing. No matter what you do, or how much you study - They will never love you, the way they love me. If... they even love you at all" he hissed into my ear.

His words were dripping with venom. I'm not sure what I ever did to Josh to make him hate me so much, but he did. Every single chance that he got - whether at home or school, he would make sure that he showed me.

I pulled my arm from his grasp and walked into my room, quickly closing the door behind me. There was no point even arguing with him. Deep down I knew that he was right. I'd never be good enough. Not for my this family, not for anybody.

"Polo, where are you hiding?" I quietly called out, scanning my bedroom, looking for a big ball of ginger fur.

Polo was now half blind, so he rarely ever left my room. He wasn't the young, energetic kitten that he once was, now he was virtually an old man, at the ripe old age of 17! These days, he just slept on my bed, only ever venturing outside of my room to eat.

I looked over to my bed, which was still neatly made. Usually, he would be found curled up and asleep on my pillow. Today he was nowhere to be seen. I walked over to my study desk, hoping he'd possibly fallen asleep on the chair. He wasn't there either.

Where the hell was he? He didn't just vanish into thin air!

A feeling of worry crept over me. Joshua was on the landing when I'd come up the stairs, and he hated Polo. Sometimes Polo would mistakenly go in to Joshua's room, thinking it was mine. Whenever that happened, Joshua would scream and shout at me, telling me to keep my dirty animal away from him.

Panicking, I thought it was best to go and check. Hopefully, Polo was just in the kitchen, getting some food. I really didn't want to leave the safety of my bedroom, and risk running into Josh or my father again, but I had to make sure Polo was ok.

I clasped the door handle and took a deep breath.

'You can do this Abi, stop being weak' I kept relaying in my head over and over, until I finally opened the door and stepped out on to the landing. Joshua was waiting for me, almost like he knew I'd be coming back out.

"Hi Sis, What you looking for?" he said with a smirk plastered on his face.

"I don't want any trouble Josh. I'm just looking for Polo, as he's not in my room" I responded, eyeing the area.

His face twisted in anger, virtually snarling at me. "How many times have I told you? Only my friends call me Josh. You and me? We are not friends. Got it? As for that disgusting animal of yours, you wont be seeing him. Father asked me to put him out of the house tonight. So I did... Straight out your bedroom window" he cackled at me manically.

I flew straight past him down the stairs and out of our front door, trying not to give him the satisfaction of the tears now threatening to spill from my eyes. Walking around to the side of our house, I looked up to my bedroom window, which was wide open. By now I was in a blind panic, tears streaming down my face.

"Polo.. Polo.. Where are you?"

I could hear a faint meowing coming from the bush underneath my open window. The voice inside my head was pleading for Polo to be ok. Walking over I began slowly spreading the branches of the bush to find Polo tightly wedged stuck. I gently pulled him out, earning multiple scratches on my hands from the branches which were covered in thick, dark thorns. I quickly raked my eyes over him, scanning from head to toe. Besides some minor scratches, he looked well! Polo snuggled in to me, purring away in thanks.

"I guess cats really do have nine lives, hey boy?" I smiled, hugging him close.

I always knew that my father and Josh were cruel, I just never expected them to be this cruel. Usually their spite was reserved for me, now poor Polo had been caught in the crossfire.

"You're best off staying out here for the night Polo. You'd probably be safer. If I let you back in and they find out, who knows what they'll do to you. I love you, and don't want to see you hurt again" I sighed, stroking his ginger fur lightly. I gently let him down on the floor, watching him take some steps back into the bush. Hopefully he'd be safe there for the night.

I walked back into the house, up the stairs to my room. I don't know how much more I can take of this.

Tomorrow I had school, and I still have to get through two hours of prayer and one hour of bible study. I knew that I'd barely get any sleep, especially since Polo wouldn't be here. I'd slept with him on my bed, every night since I could remember.

Thankfully, I finished up my studies and prayer in less time than I thought I would. It was now 10pm and I could feel sleep taking over me.

I had a quick shower, wincing as all the cuts and scratches on my hands touched the water. I looked into the bathroom mirror almost flinching when I saw my face. My lip had almost doubled in size, and was turning a nasty shade of purple. How could I hide this? Make up wouldn't work. I'd have to think of a suitable lie. How many times could I tell people that I'd fallen up the stairs, or had an accident? My teacher has already questioned me in the past about the previous cuts and bruises. Usually my father was careful enough not to hit my face. I must have really angered him this time.

Walking to my bedroom, my mind was deep in thought. I couldn't keep continuing this way. The constant threat of violence and living my life walking on egg shells, was really taking its toll. I had no way of escape.

Climbing into my bed, I lay still, waiting for sleep to take me. At least they couldn't hurt me in my dreams.