Salazar's Caged Love

8

My dress was intact, and I gazed around hurriedly only to sigh in relief to see I was in my room. What I couldn't understand was how did I end up in my room? With the vague memory about last night, I could deduce that Diana kicked me out of the cab, and then one nice man laid me on the bed. I also remember someone giving me the greatest pleasure I ever had.

I wanted to laugh at my stupidity of having a wet dream and then saying it was the best. If Diana heard me out, she would immediately set me a date, saying my lack of sex life took a toll on me.

I held my pounding head in my palm and groaned, closing my eyes when someone decided to tear down my door and barged in with heavy footsteps.

"Oh, c'mon, can't you come in silently. You didn't have to tear down the fucking door," I growled, rubbing my throbbing temple.

"If you were not wasted last night, you could see the fucking door is still in its place, and I just opened the door," that voice was calm, but I knew the storm behind the calm.

"If you are here for another shouting session, then you can save yourself. I'm not in a mood for anything," I said, leaning my head over the headboard.

"I'm not here to talk to you either; instead, I'm here to inform you that you are grounded," Dad said.

As soon as I heard him, I couldn't help laughing at him like a maniac, and on top of that, I had to hold my head, which was aching like shit, yet I couldn't stop my fits of laughter.

"What am I? A five-year-old?" I asked in between my laughter.

"You are worse than a five-year-old," the moment he said, I froze at my place. Even if I'm wasted, that shit still hurts. The only way to combat pain was to incite insult on the other person. It has helped me so far.

"And you can fuck off," I retorted; however, I was met with a hard slap that caused me to slump on the bed with the impact.

"Dare you to talk to me in that tone again! You are still living under my roof and eating what I'm providing," he growled and walked away but not before slamming the door hard.

Slap me once; shame on you. Slap me twice; shame on me.

Clutching the sheet and pressing my head into the pillow, I let out a pained scream.—A cry filled with anger, a scream filled with despair and loneliness, and a scream filled with pity.

This slap from Dad officially marked that I have no one in my life now. This was the last I would be crying, and I let my tears down without any interruption. I recollected all the happy moments I had with Mom and Dad before my mother's untimely demise. I was 10 when she died, and not even a month after her death; Dad brought Jenny to our house. If getting her to our house surprised me, their marriage after five months of my mother's death broke me from inside. I sometimes used to think could Dad be responsible for her accident? Since he was eager to marry Jenny, maybe he wanted to get rid of Mom.

If I go by that logic, he should have killed me too.

He kills you daily with his words; maybe that's why he hates you, my conscience reminded me, and I couldn't agree more. I don't know whether it was due to crying or emotionally drained, but soon I fell into the slumbers again.

-------------------------------------------------------

"How could you do that, Steven?" Jenny asked in disbelief.

"I can't lose her, Jenny," I said, looking at my daughter's door from the stair.

"I can't see her going on the same destructive path as her mother," I added.