Page 18 of Timeless Pages
He yanked my head back by the hair to expose my neck. “Hold still, you little bitch. It’s time for one final cut, but you won’t be healing from this one.”
If I didn’t do something right at that moment, I would be dead. “No!” I protested as I struggled against him.
“I fucking said hold still!” Father shouted.
I continued to struggle desperately. Part of my brain registered the cuts I was getting as I tried to fight him off, but I didn’t feel the pain as I fought for my life. I always thought I would welcome death. Welcome the chance to escape my horror for good. But teetering on the precipice of death, I discovered one invaluable thing.
I didn’t want to die.
I wanted the pain and the fear to stop, and I had thought death was my only option, but I didn’t want to die. This realization gave me the strength to ignore the pain of my injuries and fight. I managed to get one of my hands free and clawed my nails down his face.
Father bellowed in pain and rage, and I felt a brief bubble of satisfaction break through my terror and determination to live. I wanted to hear his pain again. I heard the knife clatter to the floor beside my head before both of his hands wrapped around my neck.
I kept hitting and scratching him, but I quickly lost strength. Darkness clouded my vision as my lungs struggled for air. It would be so easy to let the darkness take me and just float away, but if I passed out, I would be dead. I had to keep fighting until I couldn’t anymore.
I wouldn’t give up.
I wouldn’t let him break me.
Not anymore.
“GET OFF HER!!!” A voice bellowed. My father’s grip loosened just enough for me to suck in some air moments before someone tackled him off of me.
I rolled over to my stomach, gasping for air and coughing. The person crouched beside me protectively and picked up the discarded knife.
“Are you ok, Belle?”
Dave! It was Dave!
“Get out of my way!” Father bellowed. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“I won’t let you hurt my Belle. Now, I done already called the cops, and they’ll be here any minute!”
I didn’t know how he could have called the cops since he didn’t have a cell phone, but I wasn’t about to say anything. Surprisingly, the sound of sirens in the distance reached my ears. “See! Here come the coppers! You best be off before they get here, or you’ll get locked up in the slammer. I knows people in there. They won’t take too kindly to a father who beats up his daughter, I’ll tell you. They’ll like it even less when they find out you’s been touchin’ her sexually.”
“I’ve never laid a hand on that bitch in that way,” Father yelled. I could hear the indignation in his voice that someone would dare suggest he would be interested in me sexually. At least I had that going for me.
“That’s not the way I’ll be tellin’ it,” Dave replied.
“This isn’t fucking over. You hear me, Isabella? This isn’t over,” Father growled before running out the front door.
“Ok. He’s gone now, Miss Belle,” Dave said softly. “You stay right here a minute while I go call the police. It was mighty convenient we heard those sirens when we did, wasn’t it?”
I knew he couldn’t have called the cops. I wanted to reply, but I didn’t have the energy. I curled up in a ball on the floor instead. My robe was ripped during the struggle, I was bleeding from somewhere, and I hurt everywhere. My face and throat were burning, and every breath I took made my lungs burn.
But I was alive.
As much as I wanted to close my eyes and give in to the pull to sleep, I couldn’t. I didn’t feel safe yet. As much as I loved and appreciated Dave, if Father hadn’t thought the cops were about to show up, he could have easily killed the old drunk. If he werewaiting nearby and saw the cops hadn’t come yet, he might come back.
I zoned out as I fought to stay conscious. I could hear the cadence of Dave’s soothing voice assuring me of something. I noticed when the flashing blue and red lights started to bounce off the walls, and men in uniform arrived. That was when I began to relax. I still didn’t feel safe, but I felt safer than before. Father wouldn’t come back now. Not tonight.
The police helped me move to a nearby chair while a paramedic looked me over. I tried to answer their questions, but the banging in my head made it difficult for me to hear what they were asking. A scuffle at the door gained my attention, and for a second, I worried Father had come back after all. What if he convinced the police that he hadn’t hurt me? Would they believe him over Dave?
“You can’t come in here! It’s a crime scene!” a cop yelled.
“If you don’t let us through, I’ll—”
“Let me handle this. I’m Miss Wilcox’s attorney, and they are with me. Let us in. I demand to see my client.”
