Page 10 of Promises in the Dark

Irritation flooded through me as I struggled against my bindings, pissed off at being so helpless and out of control.

That fiery-haired devil managed to really fucking get under my skin.

“The doctor’s orders are that you remain restrained for the night,” the nurse said awkwardly, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Don’t give me that same bullshit excuse about it being policy,” I blurted out, my patience quickly running out. “I don’t need to be tied up like a mad dog.”

She gave me that pitiful look like she felt sorry for me, but her face stayed blank, keeping up that fake professionalism.

“I understand your frustration, sir,” she replied in a measured way. “But Miss Harper’s orders are clear. You must remain restrained for your own safety and that of others.”

Miss Harper. A fitting name for a demonic entity.

But Harper felt too personal, too intimate. For me she was Red. The red-haired devil who was somehow driving me insane.

I laid still, trying to remain calm and maintain my composure. My mind raced as I tried to come up with a solution to my current situation.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” nurse added, her voice oozing condescension.

Lucky. Yeah, right. In this fucked-up place, luck was a goddamn joke. Seemed like everyone in this godforsaken place had gone completely fucking delusional.

And here I was, not a patient, but a fucking prisoner.

Chapter 4

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Iheard my father’s footsteps pounding down the hallway. Heavy, loud, full of fucking hate. I knew what was coming. Same shit as always. I curled up in bed, tried to make myself disappear, but that was a joke. The door flew open like he was busting down the gates of hell, face red like he was about to explode.

It was fucked-up cycle that would never end. Wake up, eat shit, go to school, get beaten up by the bullies, come home, get beaten up by my dad.

Fuck, my eyes were still stuck shut, feeling like someone dumped a bucket of sand in them. I could barely breathe, choking on the stench of whiskey and stale cigarettes that seemed to cling to every single hole in the rotten walls of my shit-filled room.

“You little piece of shit!” he screamed, spit flying from his mouth.

Now, my father, wasn’t just any regular Joe. He was built like a tank, and he got those steel fists that could crush rocks.

So, when he hit me, it fucking hurted.

I flinched as he raised his hand to me, his fingers clenched into a fist. I knew what was coming, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. He swung his arm back and then let it fly, connecting with my cheek and sending me sprawling across the bed.

I curled up into a ball, trying to protect myself as he rained down blows on me. I could hear him yelling and cursing, blaming me for everything that had gone wrong in his life.

His greasy, beer-bellied hand wrapped around my neck and I felt the rough, calloused skin digging into my tender fleshwith an unrelenting grip that made my heart race faster than a whore’s skirts on a Saturday night.

“You’re the reason she left, you worthless piece of shit! If it wasn’t for you, she’d still be here, taking it up the ass. Look at what you’ve done!”

I wanted to scream back at him, tell him to go fuck himself, but my throat was raw, and all I could manage was a pathetic fucking croak. I was hurt, pissed, and scared shitless, but fuck me if I could do anything about it.

Then the real fun started. He lunged at me, fists flying, and I tried to dodge, but he clocked me right in the jaw. Down I went down like a sack of potatoes.

I struggled against his grip, tears streaming down my face. I knew better than to give him the answer he wanted—that my mother had left because he was an abusive, drunken mess. So, I said nothing, only whimpering in response.

He grabbed me by the hair, yanking me up off the floor like I weighed nothing. I screamed in pain, tears streaming down my face as he dragged me across the room, my head scraping against the rough carpet.

We reached the bathroom door and he shoved me in, hard. My shoulder crunched into the cold porcelain sink, and I bit down on my tongue as he grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking it back so hard that tears streamed from my eyes.

“You think you’re so innocent, don’t you?” he growled, his voice coated in venom. “You’re just like that bitch, always causing trouble, always leaving me to clean up the mess.”

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