Introduce A Little Anarchy {Chapter 4}

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We finally came to a stop in front of my house. It was a rather large house but not a mansion at all and it was beautiful. I had so many memories (good and bad in there) and now I was going to be leaving it and never come back. I had to say, I was going to miss my home but I was a little glad about the fact that I was finally going to get to be free of my father. Part of me wanted to stay here and not go live with Bruce. I couldn’t understand why I was feeling like this. 2

Bruce waited in the car while I went inside my house for one last time to gather my belongings (mostly clothes). I didn’t want to have to buy new clothing, even though Bruce told me he would if I couldn’t get my things. My bedroom was on the second floor, the very last room on that floor. I walked reluctantly up the stairs and all the way down the hall. 3

I paused as soon as I opened up the door. I usually keep it closed whenever I wasn’t in it. Privacy was the one thing I liked the most. Usually I got it. I made my way into the room and paused. As soon as I entered, my eyes locked onto the corner on the right side of my bed. On the white carpet were faint blood stains that refused to come out of the rug when I had cleaned it three years ago. It was my blood that stained the snow white carpet. Although it was faint, it was still dark. That was the same spot where I laid after my father punished me for allegedly having my gorgeous sister killed by the hands of me. I still remember it as if it was yesterday. 4

I felt that at any minute, my scalp would rip off along with my long hair. I was being dragged by the hair down the hallway and into my bedroom by my father. Once he had the door to my room opened up, he threw me into my room. I tried to not fall but I failed. I fell face first on to the snow white carpeted floor. My nose was the only thing that was struck hard enough. It was bleeding. 5

I staggered to stand up on my two feet and turned around to face my father. Now, he sported a knife in his right hand. My eyes locked on the knife he carried. My eyes were wide and fearful. I was scared because I knew what he was going to use that knife for. It was going to be used on me. I just knew it. 6

“Why did you kill her, Angie? I’ll give you one last chance to tell me.” He stated in a cold voice. 7

Without moving, I replied. “I told you that I had nothing to do with it. I don’t even get involved with criminals. You know that!” 8

“She was your sister. And she loved you.” He said. 9

“I know that but I didn’t do anything! Why won’t you believe me?!” I exclaimed. 10

“I knew you were jealous of her because I loved her more than you. You just couldn’t take it anymore so you hired someone to rape and kill her. How would you feel if it was the other way around, hmm?” He said. 11

“Yes but I didn’t kill her. Killing isn’t in my nature.” I shouted. 12

“I loved her with my all my heart, Angie, and you took her away from me! She was the daughter that I always wanted. I wanted her more than I could ever want you. You murdered my daughter so now you are going to be punished.” He shouted back. 13

He came at me but not with the knife. He grabbed me by the shirt and threw me down on the bed hard. I rolled over to the right side of the bed and landed on the floor in an attempt to get away from him. He walked over to me and bent down. I saw that he still had the knife in his hand. 14

I was going to die. I just knew it. 15

Before I knew it, the blade of his knife pierced through the skin on the side of my neck. The pain was pure agony and unbearable. I screamed out in pain as the blade continued to dig in neck and made another cut. I pounded my fists onto my father in an effort to get him to stop. He wouldn’t because he refused to like he refused to believe me when I told him the truth. And I couldn’t stop myself from screaming in agony. 16

By the time he was done, dark red blood was pouring out of the long and nearly deep cut on my neck. I placed my hands around my neck and pressed tightly to stop the bleeding. It didn’t help at all. All that it did was get my hands trenched in warm and sticky blood. My screaming had ceased by then. I hysterically cried and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t stop crying. My father had left the room and kept the door opened. 17

The pain was still present and it was too much to bear. I was going to die right here and now and I knew that I was going to. There was so much blood gushing out my neck that I thought I would have been dead by now. I was sort of terrified to die. 18

About five to six minutes later, a man dressed in black entered my room. He wore dark clothes and a black trench coat. On his head was a black hat. My wide eyes were only focused on him as he strolled over to me. My breathing was slow and rasped and I began to hyperventilate. He stood beside me and then bent down. 19

I looked up at him and took a quick glance at his face. I noticed how he had a handsome face but he had scars on his mouth. That was all I could tell about this man. He looked very unfamiliar to me. 20

Quickly, he examined me. Soon after, he shook his head as if he was in disapproval. “That’s a big cut you have there, little girl. And just look at all that blood coming out of you. You’re staining your wonderful carpet.” 21

I managed to sputter out, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”22

He put a finger to my lips. “Hush now. Save your breath, you’ll need it.” 23

“But I’m dying…” 24

“Quiet.”25

He pulled out a thick piece of gauze out of his pocket. “Move your hands away.” I did as he said and removed my hands from my neck. The sharp pain followed and I was able to feel the warm sensation that was blood. Without saying a word, he tightly wrapped the gauze around my neck. I then realized that the gauze was a tourniquet. “There, that should stop the bleeding.”26

He stood up and walked out of my room. I never did see him again…
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