The Monster Inside

Chapter 2

The blood hit the floor. My blood. I feel the tear fall down my falling down my face. “Get up, b***h,” I hear her shout. Her voice was almost like a snarl. It ripped through me, making the pain worse. Why is she doing this to me? She is supposed to love me but she lets him hit me. I feel my father’s foot slam into my ribs and my mother laughs. A scream tears from my mouth at the sound of my ribs cracking. I didn’t need to look at them to know they were smiling. “I said get up, b***h,” she repeats while grabbing my hair, pulling me off the floor.  My father’s fist connects with my jaw and I’m flown back onto the ground. A knock is heard at the door and she goes to answer it. An upbeat voice is heard, and I know it is her’s. I could see her through the hall. She is covered in blood, my blood. Yet, her bright smile and cherry deamtor doesn’t reflect what she was just doing. The evidence was all over her body. “Honey, Emma is here for Amell.” she says, “be a dear and go get him.” My father nods and heads towards the garage, where they ship him when they want to have their fun. Emma and my mom grab me and drag me down to the basement. “No! No! No! Not the basement. Please! Not the basement. I’ll be good in my room. Please!” My cries fell on deaf ears. I scream as I thump down the stairs, the pain in my broken ribs too much. “We are going over here,” she said. They pulled me toward the Confinement Corner. No! I tried to fight them but I was weakening over time as I lose more and more blood. They throw me in and start to close the door. 

“No,” I cried as I shot up from my bed. It didn’t matter that I knew that it was just a dream. It felt so real and it scared me. I sit there, my knees drawn up to my chest, crying. Just remember what happened, hurts. I didn’t want to think what would’ve happened if I hadn’t woken up when I did. The Confinement Corner was horrible. It was a glass container with machines attached to it in the corner. They would stick me in there for hours at a time, all alone. There was a timer and every hour one of the machines would pelt me with something hard, for about ten minutes. In order for them to get me in there, they would have to beat me down. Amell was never allowed in the house when they got me ready for the Confinement Corner. He would lock them out and invite a girl over for him to sleep with. It hurts to remember that pain. 

My cries still haunts me throughout the night. My hand landed on my stomach and I thought about my baby. The baby is supposed to be a boy and I am to do the modification surgery to ensure that. At the thought of that my stomach rolls. I couldn’t care less if my baby was a boy or a girl. I myself was considered a mistake because I am a girl. My baby can be a girl as well. Suddenly I no longer could sit there. I shoot out of the bed and into the connecting bathroom. Kneeling over the toilet the nonexistent contents if my stomach tried to come out. Tears roll down my face as I gag on nothing. “Estelle,” an unknown voice called out to me. I called out my location. I sat back as the assault from my stomach stopped. A young girl entered my bathroom, not exactly what I was expecting… She had long black hair and bright blue eyes. She was short in stature. She was beautiful as it was.  “Lottie, come here,” said a girl around my age as she followed the child. That was more of what I was expecting.She looked very similar to the little girl. Her hair was up to her shoulders and she looked about five foot. She was gorgeous. Sitting here, I felt out of place. A little catch up, we are on a spaceship in, you guessed it, space. Here is a little civilization of people who don’t agree with society's ways. In this ship I don’t have to ensure my baby’s gender. My brother is apparently dating a girl from this ship. There are thousands of ships like this one. Lottie looks about six or seven so the older girl I assume is not her mother. 

“Are you Amell’s sister? I hear you burnt down a school. Were you scared? How did you do it? Why did you do it? I hear you're pregnant. Did you love the baby’s fath-” 

“Lottie! Stop! We are not here to question her. Amell told us to get her for breakfast. I’m sorry about my little sister,” the girl responded, cutting the child off. I chuckled. “It’s fine, my therapist says I should talk about what I’m comparable with. On that note, Yes I am Amell’s younger sister. I did burn down my school and I wasn’t scared. Yes I am pregnant but no I do not love the father. I hope he died in the fire,” I told them. “If you didn’t love the father then how did he get you pregnant?” This child is relentless, the question hasn't registered with me yet. At the horrified look on her sister’s face the question hit me. Unwilling, throwing me back to that day. The way he grabbed me, how the rope rubbed my skin and his words were all too vivid. “LOTTIE! We don’t ask people that,” was all I heard from her sister as she scolded the child about how you don’t know what people have been through or why they do things. “It wasn’t my choice,” I whispered causing the lecture to stop. “I’m sorry but what was that,” the older girl asked. “It wasn’t my choice.” I said louder. At the look on the girl’s face she didn’t know what happened.  “I am so sorry,” she said, “I don’t know.” I didn’t know her but I felt safe with her for some reason. Getting off the floor I walk into my room with them following me.

 “So what is your name,” I ask Lottie’s sister. 

“Oh of course,” she exclaimed, “My name is Astrid and Lottie’s full name is Charlotte.”

“Talk to me about yourself while I get dressed,” I asked.

“Of course,” Astrid responds. 

As I pull stuff from my closet she starts to talk. “So I am the oldest and Lottie is the youngest. We have five siblings.” Five! Back at my home that would get you thrown into the chopper alive. “I just turned eighteen, actually we have the same birthday.” That’s weird. No one is supposed to have the same birthday if they were born the same year. Not even twins have the same birthday. “I am actually Amell’s girlfriend. I hope that we get along just fine. I sing, dance and read. I am a picky eater. Are you done?” I had just finished getting ready. I nodded my head. “Alright let’s go.”