Chapter 2 Family Issues

SOFIA'S POV

I finally returned home after that competition.

I stood frozen at the threshold, the sound of shattering glass echoing in my ears like a warning bell.

The vase, once a cherished piece on the mantel, lay in countless shards on the floor, but my attention was yanked away as I rushed into the house.

My heart raced as I entered the living room, and the sight that greeted me turned my stomach.

My mother was crumpled on the floor, her face twisted in pain, while my father loomed over her, his fists clenching and releasing in a rhythm that felt all too familiar.

"Stop!" I shouted, my voice trembling with fear and anger.

He turned, eyes blazing with a mix of surprise and rage, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch, the air fled with tension. My mother's gaze met mine, filled with a silent plea that cut deeper than any blow.

"It's okay... So... Sofia, mommy's alright." my mother gasped, but I couldn't move. My body felt heavy.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice breaking, desperation creeping in.

He sneered, dismissing my words as if they were nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing in his ear.

I was just a kid, and he was a storm, unpredictable and dangerous. I took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage I needed.

"Please, just stop," I pleaded again with tears in my eyes.

As he threatened to punch me, a wave of fear washed over me, and I flinched hard, collapsing to the ground.

Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the chaos around us as I begged him to stop.

He just laughed, a harsh, drunken sound, before stumbling away and slamming the door behind him, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

I wasted no time; I rushed to my mother's side, my heart racing as I knelt beside her.

"Mom, please!" I cried, helping her to sit up. Her face was bloody, bruises beginning to blossom like dark flowers across her skin.

She looked at me with a forced smile, trying to reassure me.

"I'm okay, really."

"No, you're not!" I insisted, my voice rising with panic. "You need to leave him! We can go somewhere safe!"

She shook her head slowly, a sadness in her eyes that I couldn't comprehend.

"I can't, sweetheart."

"Why not?" I felt frustration bubbling up inside me, mingling with the fear and helplessness.

"Because I love him," she said softly, her voice trembling.

"But what he's doing to you isn't love!" I shouted, the truth spilling out in a rush. I wanted her to see how wrong this was, how this wasn't the way love should feel. She chuckled lightly, but it was a hollow sound. "He just found me with a man a while ago-that's why he exploded like this. It proves he loves me."

"No! That's not how love is!" I argued, feeling desperate. "Love shouldn't hurt like this!"

"Someday, you'll understand when you grow up," she replied, her tone filled with resignation. "I'm not leaving him. I vowed to stay."

I gasped in shock as my mother began to whimper, her voice trembling as she recited her vows.

"For better or for worse, for sickness and in health, from richer to poorer, until death do us part."

Each word felt like a dark weight pressing down on my chest, and an icy fear gripped me.

Her smile, smeared with blood, sent a chill down my spine. It was unsettling-the way she seemed to find peace in the very pain that was breaking her.

"He loves me," she kept repeating, as if saying it enough would make it true.

I couldn't take it anymore. My heart raced as I stumbled away from her, retreating to my room, desperate for a moment of escape.

I pushed the door closed behind me, seeking refuge in the chaos of my space.

As I scanned the room, my gaze landed on a glass of orange juice sitting on the desk-it must have been left there maybe by Mom.

I didn't think twice; my throat felt dry and scratchy, and the juice looked so refreshing. I grabbed it and took a long drink, the sweet tang flooding my senses.

But as I swallowed, a sudden unease crept in. I paused, the glass hovering near my lips.

As I took another sip, a strange heaviness washed over me, and my vision began to blur.

Panic surged through me, but it felt distant, as if I were floating just outside my own body.

I tried to call out, to scream for my mother, but no sound escaped my lips. The last thing I remember was the taste of orange juice lingering on my tongue, and then, everything slipped away into darkness.