Heal Me

We'd run away from home, my little sister and I. We were helpless. Until he came along with his dark, bushy eyebrows and windswept hair. His name was Liam.

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1. Stupid Bell

Isabelle’s POV-


I twitched in shock as a deep, booming voice shattered the perfect silence. “Isabelle! Get yourself down here and clean up the mess your sister just made!” Shuddering with fear as I tried to creep down the stairs without making a single sound, no creaky floorboards today. Breathing a small sigh of relief, I reached out for the key, the key to my freedom. Or to the front door. They were the same thing, the key hadn’t been unguarded in months. I was so close to grabbing it, it was on a high shelf and I’m only five foot three, so it was pretty difficult. Feeling around for a bit my fingers finally made contact with the cool metal, my fingers brushing the slightly sharp edges. Slowly, I slid it off of the shelf, I had it! I was free at last! But as I gripped the key in my hands at last, I failed to notice the small bell attached to it by a string.


Within the two seconds it took for the bell to ring and for the sound to slowly fade away, he was there. Grinning manically at me, his teeth yellowed by years of smoking and poor hygiene. I was backed into a corner. Flip! What was I supposed to do now, I could hear my little sister crying in the next room, heart wrenching screams, she was clearly in a lot of pain. My eyes were darting around the kitchen like crazy, trying to find a way out. But there was none.


“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart? HUH?!” Dad started off with a calm tone but it quickly rose to a scream, like a million claps of thunder at once. I tried to stammer out a reply, but before I knew what was happening he had grabbed the rolling pin and was swinging towards my stomach with it. I barely had time to register this before I felt the crippling blow of it, forcing me to fall to my knees in pain. About 15 minutes later he left, probably to go to the pub, taking the key and that stupid bell with him. I was covered in a mass of bruises and cuts, he’d used almost every kitchen utensil we had in one way or another, but the cuts weren’t that deep this time. Hurriedly wrapping my arms in bandages, securing them tightly, and putting a few plasters over some cuts I turned my attention to my stomach. It was gushing with blood. With a sigh, I began to mop up the blood, wrapping a few more bandages around myself, trying to staunch the blood flow. When I had the strength, I got up off of the freezing cold kitchen floor and went to see if my little sister was alright.


She was the most gorgeous thing, even when she was screaming like that. Straight blonde hair and big brown eyes, a totally beautiful little girl. Lydia. Over the years she’d become more like my daughter instead of a little sister, I’d looked after her since I was 14, in 3 years we’d come a long way. She’d learnt to walk, talk and was now successfully potty trained. As I slowly slid through the living room door, I saw the reason why she was crying. That evil monster had locked her in the cage, the sort you would take a dog to the vet in but twice as small, we used to have for our puppy, before he got rid of that too. An ‘accident’ has happened to it. He’d let the puppy go in the middle of the road and told it to stay, and being obedient it did. Poor Domino. I shook my head slowly, forcing the thought from my mind, Lydia was my concern right now. Bending down to scoop that poor precious girl up and release her from the steel barred cage, I saw he’d bitten her arms and legs. What sort of monster would do that?!


I took a while to settle Lydia off to sleep once I’d soothed her and managed to take down some of the swelling with ice. Staring at her as she lay on our shared bed, I decided that she deserved better. Grabbing a standard sized floral backpack from the floor, I searched the wardrobe for what I needed. Half an hour later, we were all ready. Several outfits for me, a bunch of them for Lydia, toys for her, her blankie and some other things I thought would come in useful. We were all set. Gently dressing Lydia in her winter coat, gloves and a scarf of mine, we headed downstairs. I had no coat, so grabbed my warmest knitted jumper and tugged it over my head. As I slipped the rucksack onto my shoulders, I wondered how we were going to get out.


I ended up smashing one of the living room windows and clambering out, making sure Lydia was perfectly safe and stood no chance of being caught by one of glass shards. I’d cut my hands clawing our way out, but it was worth it and they’d heal pretty quickly. I didn’t know where we were going, just away from him.

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