Fear

• Zoe Battams, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2014

His voice echoes down the hallway. I shiver as the sound reaches my ears. It travels throughout my body, like a vibration from an earthquake. I feel it from my head to my toes. I begin to panic as his feet bang on the floor, louder with each step he takes. He is getting closer, I hear him breathing. He sucks in the air like each breath he takes is his last. Absorbing all the oxygen that surrounds him, exhaling though there’s something stuck in the back of his throat. I swallow what is in the back of mine, fear. Quietly, I roll over onto my side and pull the blanket up to my chin. I’ll pretend I’m asleep, then maybe he’ll leave me alone. The bedroom door swings open and he barges his way in. My eyes, tightly shut. He sees me, pretending to sleep. I hear his steps getting closer before they stop. He is right next to me. Hovering over me. Watching as I slowly breath in, and out. I clutch the sheets until my knuckles turn white. Slowly, he walks from my side to the end of the bed. Suddenly, something grasps my feet and I am ripped to the floor. I gasp and roll myself over, I am facing him. I begin to shuffle backwards. He steps on my feet and I wince. He laughs and yanks my shirt so I am right in front of him. The alcohol on his breath wafts through my nose, stronger than last time. He raises his hand and swipes it across my face. I stumble backwards, the pain hitting my cheek immediately. The stinging is unbearable. Tears form in my eyes, but I hold them back. I don’t dare cry in front of him. I pull my knees to my chest. He continues to raise his fist and repetitively beats me. I yelp in pain. The agony is too much. He stops, and claws his hand over my mouth while screaming at me. He drags my weak and bruised body across the floor, one hand over my mouth, the other wrapped around my waist. Every part of my body aches. I attempt to break free from the hold he has on me, but he is much too strong. I give up. My arms hang loosely by my sides as he wrenches me across the floor like a rag doll. He reaches the other side of the room and I am thrown into the wall. The back of my head thuds against the cold, hard concrete. Instantly, I fall to the floor. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I carefully raise my hand to brush the back of my head. Dark, red, blood. Everything around me begins to spin. His slurred, shouting voice is muffled. I cannot understand a word he is saying. I blink my eyes. Once, twice, three times. Each time I blink, I’m somewhere else. Somewhere far away from him. Finally, I’m out of his reach.