I opened my mouth in a silent scream as Jack backhanded me across the face. I barely registered the pain before my gut was punched. I doubled over and gripped my stomach.

"What did you think you were gonna do? Hide it from me forever?" He yelled, kicking me in the ribs, hitting the injured one from the other day. I cried out and didn't answer. I honestly didn't know what he was talking about.

"Answer me!" He boomed.

Tears streamed down my face and I opened my mouth, but nothing by came out. Angered, Jack kicked me again. And again.

"What, were you gonna run away with him? Leave me like your mother did?"

I struggled and tried to scream, but nothing came as he pulled me to my feet by my hair. I wanted to snap back. I wanted to say that Mom didn't leave us, that she died ten years ago and there was no way of getting her back. But I couldn't, I haven't been able to answer back since I was seven years old. And he knew this, yet he wouldn't stop beating me up for not uttering a word back.

Slap! "Answer me, Eirenae! What were you doing with him?"

I raised my hand to my throbbing cheek and shook my head. I knew what he was talking about now.

Today at school I had been assigned to work on a project with this kid in my class. Unfortunately for me, the kid was a boy, and now Jack had the idea that I was going to escape and run away with him. Or that I was sleeping with him. Neither of those accusations were true, but even if I could tell him that, he wouldn't believe me.

When I still wouldn't make a sound, he continued his beating, swearing in my face and calling me disgusting names. I tuned it all out and closed my eyes, wishing I'd pass out and turn the world to black.

* * *

My eyes fluttered open and I scrunched my face against the light. Everything hurt, and I raised an arm to clutch my chest in pain. My first rib injury was ten times worse and a few more were added. I could smell blood and saw multiple deep bruises on my arms and legs. I was sure there were more on my neck and face — places I couldn't see without a mirror.

Tears leaked from my eyes as I remembered last night. Sitting up, I found myself sitting in the same spot I passed out in. On the floor, in the middle of the living room. I cautiously sat up, wincing in pain, only to freeze when Jack entered the room.

"Ah, I see you're awake." Not seeming to care I was sitting in my own blood and sporting obvious injuries he had caused, he barked, "pack up, we're leaving in less than two hours."

I nodded, not surprised. Whenever I got close — or what Jack thought was close — to someone, we had to move. He would never explain why, but I knew it was because he became afraid of people getting suspicious and finding out what goes on behind these walls.

I painfully crawled to the stairs and slowly made my way down. I only had two hours, which meant packing was going to be incredibly difficult.

I made it to my room and pulled out the suitcase from under my bed. It was made of black material and it was tiny, but it could hold everything I owned.

I moved across my room, taking things out of drawers and from my bathroom, making a pile next to the suitcase. When the bathroom and the dresser were empty, I sunk down to my knees and started folding the clothes, placing them neatly in the luggage. I filled the rest of the space with bathroom necessities and was about to close it when I remembered the box.

I slid it out from under the bed and untied the gold ribbon that kept the lid on. Inside was a stack of photos and hand written notes, along with a wolf pendant attached to a thin chain. My mom had left that in an envelope under my bedsheets the day she died.

I was only in second grade, and I didn't remember much from that day. The first half was a blur of getting picked up from school early, to an accident that left me passed out in the car. I'd woken up at the police station and my father had come and picked me up. I remembered him weeping as we received the news that Mom and Tally were gone and had most likely died in the crash.

When we got home, I could tell he was incredibly upset. So, I ran over to give him a hug, but instead of being hugged back like I was expecting, he shoved me off, tossing me to the floor. He'd never acted this way before, so I ran to my room upset.

I meant to climb under the covers of my bed to hide, but when I pulled the sheets back, a tiny envelope was tucked under them. I'd pulled it out and when I unfolded it, the necklace had fallen to the floor.

That was the last thing she'd ever given me. I never found anything that explained what had happened or what the necklace was for. I assumed it was just something pretty she thought I'd like. But thinking back on it now, it was almost as if she had been planning something. But for the life of me I couldn't figure out why she had left a gift in my bed, only to pick me up from school to take me with her. It didn't make sense.

In the days after their death, Jack became worse and worse, less of the father I had known. That was when I'd stopped talking, when the beatings started, and when I'd decided to quit referring to Jack as Dad.

I slid a glossy photo out from the box and stared at it, tears forming in my eyes. The picture showed Jack and my mom, with smiles on their faces as they gazed down at the bundle my mother was holding. Little six year old me was looking up at them with sparkling blue eyes. Happiness jumped from the image and that just made the tears fall harder. I missed my old life, where I lived happily with my family. Before Mom, my sister, and I got in an accident that left me here alone. Before everything was ruined.

I gripped both sides of the photo and ripped it right down the middle. One half now showed my mom, my newborn sister, and me. The other half was Jack.

I glared at his half of the photo. He didn't deserve my mom if he was going to become this when she died. I didn't do anything to deserve the torture he had put me through for nearly eleven years. I'd decided long ago that Jack didn't deserve to be my father anymore; it was time I decided he shouldn't deserve to be in that picture anymore either.