Save Me

Happy Birthday

Dear Diary,

Yeah, big revelation there, huh? I’m sure you know why I had to change my name. After all, I can’t very well be on the run with my real name. Now where were we? Ah yes. Eleanora.

For the next eleven days, Eleanora and I would hang out together from the time my father left in the morning until an hour before he came home. We would play barbies, hide and seek and even brave climbing the tree in her backyard. Charlie, her dad, always treated me with kindness. Throughout the day, he would bring us both lemonade and make us chicken salad sandwiches for lunch. Neither of them asked about my family anytime during those eleven days, and I was thankful for that.

The day of my twelfth birthday was just another day for me. Since my mother’s death, my father had either forgotten or neglected to acknowledge it. I dressed in jeans and a bright yellow shirt and walked over to Eleanora’s house. When I arrived, she and Charlie were waiting outside and pulled me into a group hug.

“Happy Birthday, Vera!” they both exclaimed with wide smiles on their faces.

“Ellie, I told you I just wanted this to be another day,” I said, returning their embrace. Charlie released the hug first and gave me a sad smile.

“Vera, you’ve become like a sister to Eleanora and a second daughter to me over the past couple of weeks, and birthdays are a big deal in this family. Now, get your butts in the car. It’s time for Pancake House!” Despite my reluctance, I forced a smile and climbed into the back of Charlie’s red Range Rover with Eleanora.

In just five minutes, we arrived at Pancake House. Although I had never been there before, the name made it clear what they offered. Eleanora and I got out of the car and headed inside. The moment we entered, I was hit with a warm, buttery, sweet aroma that made my mouth water.

Charlie approached a lady leaning on the counter near the cash register and muttered the word “three.” She handed us menus and led us to our seats. I scanned the menu, which featured various types of pancakes: chocolate, strawberry, chocolate-strawberry, banana, and more. Eleanora barely glanced at the menu before ordering a stack of blueberry pancakes with orange vanilla syrup. I scrunched up my nose at the unusual combination, but she assured me it was delicious, so I ordered the same.

As Charlie sipped his dark coffee, he asked me, “Vera, does your dad have anything planned for you today?”

I fiddled with the napkin in my lap, feeling uncomfortable. “Oh, y-yeah, he said it’s a surprise,” I stammered. It wasn’t entirely false; I was sure my father had something planned, but not because it was my birthday.

Charlie raised his eyebrows skeptically, but before he could reply, the server brought our food. I breathed a sigh of relief as everyone dug in.

For the rest of the day, Charlie treated me better than my father had since my mother’s passing. After Pancake House, he took Eleanora and me to the local water park. It was a welcome break from my problems, and I felt grateful to Charlie and Eleanora.

By the time we pulled into their driveway, it was 6:45 in the evening, almost an hour before my father was due home. I hopped out of the car, hugged Charlie and Eleanora, and thanked them again for the wonderful birthday. Then I ran to my house and started preparing dinner. Since I was old enough to handle the stove, my father expected me to have dinner ready when he arrived home.

I opted for a simple meal of baked chicken and vegetables, but it took nearly the entire hour to prepare. Just as I was finishing, I heard my father’s heavy footsteps approaching. I emerged from the kitchen and headed towards the living area to greet him. My heart sank when I saw he wasn’t alone. A tall, white man with short blonde hair and piercing green eyes stood beside him. He towered over my father and had an average build, but there was something unsettling about the way he looked at me. A few wrinkles marred his dull eyes, hinting at his age, but they conveyed a sense of cruelty and malice that chilled me to the bone.

“Vera, I hope you made enough food for our guest tonight. I told him he could expect a great meal,” my father said, his voice laced with a tone of menace.

I swallowed hard. I had, in fact, not prepared enough food for two people. “N-No, Father. I’m sorry. I-I didn’t realize you were bringing a guest,” I stammered, bracing myself for what was to come.

My father’s face turned beet red as he stormed towards me. I hurried behind the archway that led into the kitchen, hoping to put some distance between us. But this only seemed to enrage him further. As he closed in on me, he suddenly grabbed my hair and flung me towards the man’s feet, causing me to crash to the ground. I could feel the man’s gaze burning into me as I lay there, helpless and vulnerable.

The mysterious man grinned maliciously as he traced the outline of my small figure with his eyes. I could hear the thunderous sound of my father’s boots as he approached me and before I even had time to flinch, a kick hit me so hard it felt like a sledgehammer to my skull. I curled into the fetal position, trying to protect my head with my hands, but it was no use.

“S-Stop! Please, please stop!” I was screaming and crying, desperately begging for him to stop, as tears streamed down my face.

Suddenly, the beating ceased, and the man who had been watching bent down to my level. He lifted a hand and used his cold fingers to brush away the blood stained hairs from my face, then smirked. I felt cold chills run down my spine as his hand lingered on my face, and he studied me meticulously. It was almost like he was viewing a delicate doll that he was too scared to break.

“Well, well, Leo,” he said in a low voice. “I think there is a way you can make this up to me.” His finger traveled from my face to my chest and eventually stopping at the front pocket of my jeans. He then grabbed both of my ankles and pinned them securely against the hard floor.

My heart raced as terror clutched onto me like an iron vise. I looked up at my father with pleading eyes, hoping that he would step in and stop this man, but all I got back was an icy stare filled with pure loathing.

“Take her upstairs, first door on the right, and do whatever you want to her. It seems me beating her senseless doesn’t do anything anymore. Maybe this will.”

I screamed and kicked as the man grabbed me and hoisted me over his shoulder. He laughed in response, and all I could do was use my now-tiring fists and nails to try and claw through the man’s thick skin. I screamed until my voice gave out, but it was of no use–the man’s grip was too strong. This would be a birthday I would never forget.