Page 3 of Cheshire

After he left, I lay there for a while, pain radiating from every inch of me. But I couldn’t give up. Not now. Slowly, painstakingly, I pushed myself up from the floor, my body protesting against the movement.

“Dad’s gone,” I whispered to myself, a feeble attempt at bolstering my courage. Leaning against the wall for support, I stumbled toward the front door.

My hands shook as I reached out for the knob, biting down hard on my lip to stifle a cry of pain. Pulling it open was torture. Every fiber in my being screamed in protest.

Once outside, the chilly night air hit my face like a slap. It stung and soothed in equal measure against my battered skin. Tears filled my eyes and for a moment, everything blurred. Blinking them away, I forced myself to focus. There was no room for mistakes.

The next few steps were agonizing and seemingly impossible. Each one felt like walking through a field of broken glass.

I had almost reached Maria’s house when the roar of engines filled the air. Panic surged through me. I pressed myself against the shadowy side of a nearby shed to hide.

Moments later, several motorcycles roared past me on the main road, their riders hidden behind darkened helmets. My heart pounded in my chest as they zoomed by. Were these the men Maria had told me about? No. They didn’t wear the black leather vests like the others did.

After they had passed and silence returned to our quiet neighborhood, I pushed myself upright again and limped toward Maria’s house.

Just as I reached her door, it swung open, and she stepped out into her yard. Her eyes widened when she saw me in the moonlight.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, rushing toward me with hurried steps.

“I tried,” was all I managed to mutter before my legs gave way beneath me and I fell into her arms, the world spinning in a whirlwind of excruciating pain and darkness.

Maria caught me before I hit the ground, her small frame straining under my weight. She muttered something under her breath as she struggled to keep us both upright, her eyes aflame with determination and worry.

“We’re going to get you out of here, Eliza,” she said fiercely, her voice barely above a whisper. But I wasn’t sure if I believed her anymore. The pain was too much, the situation too dire. My father’s threats echoed in my ears.

As unconsciousness loomed, my last thought was that I wouldn’t survive this hell much longer.

My weak body gave up completely then, and I sank into darkness, any fight left in me evaporating.

* * *

When I came to, Maria was doing her best to clean my wounds, her face a mask of focused concentration. “You’re going to be okay,” she kept repeating, more for herself than for me.

I knew she was lying, but I didn’t have the strength to argue. Instead, I let her work in silence, my body throbbing with pain. With each swab of disinfectant she applied, a new wave of agony washed over me, causing me to grit my teeth against the discomfort.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“Nearly twenty minutes,” she murmured.

Suddenly, the sound of an approaching car made us freeze. It stopped nearby, and somehow, I just knew it was my father. I heard our door slam shut, then his bellow of rage.

“It’s him,” Maria whispered to me. She looked pale under the dim light pouring in from the lone window. In that moment, I knew we were thinking the same thing -- we were trapped.

But Maria was not one to give up easily. She quickly helped me into a small cupboard near the window, covering me with blankets before closing the door as quietly as possible.

“You need to be quiet,” she instructed, her voice barely audible.

I nodded from behind the door and watched through a crack as she ran into the darkness toward the backdoor.

“Maria!” my father bellowed loudly enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

I peeked through a crack in the door and watched as he barged into Maria’s house with his men following closely behind. Deputies just as twisted as my father. They’d do anything for him. They roughly tore through every room searching for me while Maria desperately tried to convince them that I wasn’t there.

Tears welled up in my eyes as he held Maria against a wall, my father’s face inches from hers.

“Where is she?” he threatened, gripping Maria by the throat.

Maria managed to choke out a defiant response, “She’s gone… You’ll never find her.”