Chapter 2 When hope knocks

Werewolves, vampires, witches, mages-were all fairytales. I didn't believe they existed. I mean, who does?

My dad used to tell me bedtime stories when I was little. It was always about an Alpha King, who ruled over the land of the six. At night, when he came to tuck me in bed, he would tell the same story over and over until I fell asleep in his arms.

He always had breakfast ready before going to work and made sure to come early to pick me up from school. He played both roles so perfectly, I never wished for anything else-not even a mother.

For me, this was more than perfect. I had a life at home and at school.

I had friends. Emphasis on had.

It's just surprising how my life turned upside down. The ones I thought would stand by me didn't think twice before stabbing me in the back. The same mouths that once laughed with me started calling me names –weird, freak.

I was bullied in school and mocked by the people who were once my friends. But that was nothing compared to what I went through at home. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

I never skipped school. It was more peaceful-and safer-than home.

How contradictory.

Home is supposed to be safe and peaceful, but mine was nowhere near that.

My aunt would lash out and beat the hell out of me every night. She'd come home drunk, cussing at me-calling me a beast, a cursed child, the one who killed her twin sister.

"You're going to kill everybody around you. Everyone. Even me."

Those last words ''even me' would ignite her rage. She'd pressed her fingers deep into my neck, squeeze my neck until I felt like I was slipping away. Until my very last breath. Then she'd let go.

That was my night routine. It was a miracle I was still alive. On my birthdays, it was twice as bad.

So-school or that hellhole? I'd choose school every time.

It all started when my dad abandoned me at ten.That's when my aunt took custody. One afternoon, my friends came over. They expected snacks and a fun time. Instead, they witnessed my aunt lose control-her fury crashing down on me like a storm. She screamed, shoved, and struck, blaming me for the bankruptcy of her salon. She blamed me for everything that goes wrong in her life. I nearly died that day.

They saw it. And after that, nothing was the same.

I never asked for much. Just a normal life with my best person-my dad. But the only person I thought would never leave me, left without goodbye.

He packed his things and left like he was never there in the first place.

The truth hurts, so I'd live in a lie. My father went missing and the police searched for him but to no avail.

Because believing he was missing was easier than accepting the truth.

Denial or hope? –

Well, it shattered to the ground when my aunt didn't waste time in shoving it right into my face. "Your father abandoned you."

And I knew. I always did.

But I still waited. I waited for him.

Hope is a cruel thing after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I jerked upright in bed, heart pounding.

The sheets clung to me-damp with sweat. My breath was shallow and in short bursts.

My eyes were watering. I clutched my chest tightly, I couldn't breathe. It's like the air has been sucked out of my room.

I just woke up again from a nightmare.

Was it?...It felt too real.

Am I still dreaming?

I pinched myself hard. A gasp escaped my lips as I winced in pain.

Okay, so this is real.

I sat up, hand still clamped to my chest, trying to calm down. My eyes drifted to the tiled floor where sunlight traced lazy shapes.

Wait. Sunlight? The last time I woke up it was 4:30am. What's happening?

I grabbed my phone. 2:30 p.m.

Afternoon. That can't be right. I've been asleep for... over 10 hours?

Why didn't Aunt wake me? More like yanked me out of bed.

Every morning, she yanks me out of bed and drags me downstairs. Cussed me and slapped me on my cheeks so hard, blood shot in my eyes.

Her fingers would be imprinted on my cheeks, and reddened from the repeated slaps. It was twice as bad on my birthday.

Considering today was my birthday, something is not adding up. If everything was a dream, my aunt's dead body, the shadow... It was like I was forgetting something. I couldn't remember the face of the shadow nor the voice. My memories ended when the shadow crept behind me–anything after that I couldn't remember.

I checked my phone for blood stains.

Nothing. So how the hell did I get to the bedroom?

Unless... It was a dream, a very terrible dream. That was what it was.

I won't let my intrusive thoughts win.

If it was a dream, then she was probably alive. It was all a dream. I concluded, I didn't want any of it to be true. I didn't like my aunt but I wouldn't wish for her death as she wished for mine. And certainly not in that matter, as the memories of her dead body being torn apart was vividly printed in my head.

"Trisha.." a familiar voice disrupted my train of thoughts.

It was Sandra.

What was she doing here?

She quietly opened the door.

Her left foot stepped inside first, then her face peeked in, her blue eyes scanning the four corners of my cubicle. It was her first time in my room.

She quickly darted her eyes, but I caught the shock before she looked away. My room was so small, the narrow bed barely squeezed in.

This room was used to keep trash and I guess I was no exception because my aunt threw me in there and locked me up like I was some kind of animal.

I slept there for 8 bad years and I got pretty used to it.

"Your room is cute", she exclaimed the moment we made eye contact. It hardly sounded like a compliment.

She was holding a cake in her hands.

"Happy birthday!", she squealed.

She placed it on my lap since there was barely any space for it.

She locked eyes with mine, her brows furrowed in worry.

"You okay?"Her voice was full of concern.

How do I tell her I saw the dead body of my aunt only to wake up on my bed and I don't know if it was a dream or not?

I don't know what was even real anymore.

I turned to speak and it occurred to me.

"How did you get in?" My voice was laced with urgency.

Aunt never ever let any one in my cubicle. She always sent Sandra away and told her I'd meet her outside.

I quickly threw over my covers and slid off the bed. The cake almost toppled if not for Sandra who held it like her life depended on it.

"Well, I walked". She answered sarcastically. The cake, still in her hands. Her face twitched in annoyance certainly because the cake almost fell.

"Well since your aunt wasn't downstairs, I supposed I could come inside. Her voice, lower than the first.

Why? you don't like the cake?" she pouted.

"It's not that." I said as I opened the door and raced downstairs.

I went straight to the kitchen, where her lifeless body was. No blood splattered on the walls. No blood on the floor.

Her body wasn't there, a sense of relief washed over me. But dread still lingered,

If it was a dream and she wasn't dead then, where was she? The memories were too vivid to regard it as just dreams.

Knock, knock.

There was a knock on the door.

I almost jumped as my heart skipped a beat. Sandra rushed past me to get the door, I didn't even notice she was right beside me.

"I guess it's the pizza guy" she pulled open the door.

Trisha," she called softly. "Someone's here for you."

I joined her and froze.

Dad.

He hadn't aged a day. Still the same face-young, kind, familiar.

"Baby girl" he whispered, pulling me into a hug and lifting me off the ground.

"Dad". I said as tears I didn't intend to shed started rolling down my cheeks. I didn't know how much I've held in and...for how long? But the tears wouldn't stop.

I cried, not out of fear. I cried because he came back to me.

Maybe hope isn't a cruel thing after all.

Maybe hope is what knocks when we least expect it.