Saved By Mr. L

AURORA'S POINT OF VIEW

It happened again. He did it again. He hit her. He was on to me next. I had to make a run for it. I was tired of it all. I needed to find solace or else I knew the bruises would be deeper this time. He came back drunk again for the hundredth time. Banging the door, shouting "Let me in!"

How could I when I know that he is going to beat the hell out of us if I did. The whole neighborhood was as silent as a graveyard. As it should be at 1:30 a.m. in the morning. It was a time of sleep for every being that crawled the earth. Mere mortals had taken to heed and unearthly beings roamed the night. How could I know if he hasn't been possessed by one of them?

He has always been so vulgar. No! He wasn't like this. The incident made him so. There was a time when we were so happy. I still remember those summer days when dad would take us to the beach or those Christmas mornings when we'd build a snowman.

Dad used to braid our hair and pancake Sunday was the best day of the week. But... all that changed when the incident happened.

I do sympathize with my father because of it, but truth be told, we all suffered from it so he wasn't any less different from us. He took his grief way too far. We got over ours quickly but that didn't mean we didn't love her. It was only because we wanted her to move on too. We knew that if we didn't move on, she wouldn't. We were her stuck point.

"Don't mother! Don't do something that you would come to regret!" I said to my mother as I watched her about to open the door for my father. She was about to let him!

"Not again! Not this night too! It's too sacred to be ruined with scars and bruises. Just let him stay outside, mother!" I warned her again.

She couldn't let him in and let him ruin the night for the both of us. It was his shouting that woke us up from our sleep. We proceeded down the stairs, our hearts filled with jitters and fear.

It was evident to us that today's drinking was different from the normal routine. His voice carried a hint of sadness in them and as he crouched down on his knees crying, we knew that it came from a place of hurt.

Which is probably why my mother thought it was best to let him in, to console him but I knew this beast better than anyone else. He wasn't deserving of a second chance or any chance for that matter.

As my mother twisted the door knob, I kept on waving my head in disagreement with her actions.

"No! No! No! Mother, please don't!" I muttered countless times, begging her to rethink her actions but she gave me no heed.

"He will hit us and you know it! Just let him stay out there, mother! Don't do it, mom!" I persuaded her but she seemed to not budge.

"He is hurting. He is your father and remember that today is the day we lost her. Why don't we all grieve together? Why don't we console each other, together, as a family?" She said to me with a warm voice, her eyes moist and face filled with concern and love for that deadbeat of a man outside.

Why doesn't she ever listen to me?!

We are not a family anymore!

We cannot console him!

I knew I had to stop my mother. As the door gave way to streaks of lights from the outside, I rushed forward.

"No, no, no, wait, wait, please listen to me!" I yelled breathlessly as I stood in front of her, taking the door knob from her grasp.

My eyes welled up with tears as I struggled to clear my mind and find the right words to say.

Once I finally found my voice, I took a deep breath and began. "Mom... we can't keep living like this. I'm tired, aren't you?" I asked, my voice trembling.

My mother didn't respond but her hazel eyes mirrored her answers.

"Let's... let's call the police. Let's run away. I don't want to get beaten... please." I begged, tears streaming down my cheeks.

My mother's silence was heavy in the air. She cradled my face and wiped away my tears. She nodded in reply and as she opened her mouth to speak, the unimaginable happened.

My father bolted the door open with all his strength, sending me flying across the room and my mother tumbling back.

As soon as the door flung open, I quickly rose to my feet and took a step back, bracing myself up for what was about to happen next. And with the speed of light, he struck! Creating menace and chaos in the air!

He went after her, my mother, holding her hair tightly, causing her so much pain. Grabbing the weapon he could find close to him, he released strikes on her body with it, damaging her beautiful olive skin. I watched in horror as it took place. As she screamed in pain, begging profusely, as he repeatedly hit her, dropping the weapon and using his fists while he cursed out.

"Stupid woman! You are such a fool! Why didn't you open the door earlier?! You left me out there in the dark, waiting! What if I was attacked and killed by an unknown person?! You will pay for it!" He said in his drunken state.

I would find it very much satisfying if he was killed.

I watched on, unable to say or do anything. Unable to help my mother from the hands of my father, unable to move. I watched on as she kept screaming my name for help, begging me to save her.

"Aurora! Aurora, please do something! Aurora, please save me! Please do something, Aurora! Please!" She begged profusely as I saw her body fill up with bruises, blood slowly dripping out from some parts of the openings.

I watched as my father's fists tore into her, reopening bruises and splitting her lips. Her swollen eyes pleaded for mercy as he yanked her by the hair, strands tangled in his bloodied hands. She sobbed, clutching her stomach, shielding herself as he slammed her head against the floor again and again.

Fear gripped me as I watched, knowing this wasn't the end. Frozen in place, I saw my dad unleash his fury on my mom, his curses echoing: "You killed her! You deserve to die, you worthless trash!"

The scene before me was all too familiar-a cycle of pain that never seemed to end. My mother's screams, my father's curses, the sound of flesh meeting fists-it played out like a nightmare on repeat. My bruised body ached, the marks a permanent reminder of my reality.

Then, everything went silent. The chaos faded, leaving me in an eerie void. It was like floating in darkness, disconnected, watching the violence unfold in muted horror. My mind retreated, pulling me into a memory-the night it all began.

That dinner. My father, drunk. My mother's smile, so bright before it all turned sour. The news. The tears. The first strike. The shift from love to terror. That night rewrote our lives, binding us to this endless cycle of suffering.

Could things have been different? If she were still alive, would we be whole? Would my father have been a better man? Or was this who he always was, waiting for the right moment to unravel?

These questions haunted me, their answers lost in the chaos. All the love and happiness I had known in my family now feels like a distant memory, faded and blurred by the years of pain and suffering that followed. What was once joyful and loving now seems like a fantasy, a dream I can barely recall.

I didn't recognize myself anymore-a girl hidden behind shame and fear.

Then, like a crashing wave, the present surged back. The silence broke, replaced by screams and curses that echoed in my head. I was no longer lost in the past. I was here, trapped in this unending torment.

Before my eyes, I saw as my mother began to lose consciousness, her eyes almost closing.

No! Not again! This can't happen again! I can't lose her too-not like this.

Without thinking, I lunged at my father. "Stop it! Leave her alone! You're hurting her! That's enough!" I shoved him, desperate to end his madness.

My father barely flinched. With a single swing of his arm, he sent me crashing into the corner. "Get lost!" he roared.

I stumbled to my feet, tears streaming down my face. "You're going to kill her! Stop it!" I screamed, rushing at him again.

This time, he didn't just shove me-he flung me across the room. My back slammed against the door, and my head struck something hard, the weapon he had used on my mother, lying on the floor. Pain shot through my skull. I placed a hand on the right side of my head and the wet liquid I felt was a confirmation that I was bleeding on the head.

I tried to get up, but my legs gave out beneath me. The room spun, my vision blurred, and my head throbbed. Still, I could see him, his fists raining down on my unconscious mother.

I tried to fight the darkness creeping over me, but my strength was fading fast. Through the haze, I saw him stop, his chest heaving as he turned toward me. A look of satisfaction on his face. He picked up the weapon near my head, his bloodied hands gripping it tightly. His eyes burned with rage.

"It's your turn now," he growled, stepping closer.

The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was his shadow looming over me. I knew deep down, even as I faded into blackness, that it wasn't a hindrance to him. It would not stop him from hitting me!

LIAM'S POINT OF VIEW

"I know I'm late, and I'm sorry, okay?" I said, holding my hands up in surrender as I headed for a seat on the dining table.

Earlier this morning, my father called for a dinner meeting with the whole family at the family mansion that evening. He said he had something very important to tell us, and no one was expected to miss the meeting.

"Don't worry, we already started without you," Dominica, the oldest of us, said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "We shouldn't have to wait for the baby of the house now, should we? It would certainly be absolute rubbish!" She said as she put food in her mouth and gave me a smug look.

I paused, hand hovering over the chair I was about to pull, feeling the sting of her words. Her words were subtle, but their meaning was clear to everyone in the room. The humiliation burned like a hot coal in my chest.

I stole a glance at my parents and elder brothers, hoping that one of them would speak up and caution her, but instead they pretended as if they didn't hear and Dominica smirked in satisfaction, savoring the taste of her victory.

"Well, I didn't intend to arrive late," I said, taking my seat. "Something important came up at the office and I lost track of time." I placed the napkin on my lap, feeling a little flustered.

Dominica scoffed. "Something important at the office? What could be more important than your family, your own father?" she demanded, her voice dripping with disdain.

I bit my tongue, refusing to rise to the bait. Instead, I focused on the food spread out on the table, my gaze flitting from dish to dish.

"This is quite a feast!" I exclaimed, surprised by the lavish spread before me. "Is there something special going on today? Are we celebrating something?"

My words seemed to hang in the air, unanswered. I was pretty sure everyone was just ignoring me. I decided to keep my mouth shut and start eating.

Henry, the second oldest of us, dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then dropped it on the table. "Father," he began, clearing his throat, "if you don't mind me asking, why have you called us here this evening?"

There was a moment of tense silence as we all waited for an answer. Our father put down his cutlery, we all followed suit. He looked up, his eyes meeting each of ours in turn.

"Thank you, Henry," my father said, his voice calm but firm. "Now that we're all here, I can tell you the reason for this dinner." He looked around the table.

The air was thick with tension, like a storm about to break. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting for what he would say next.

"It's been thirteen good years since I founded my company, The Anderson Corporations," my father continued, his voice still calm but tinged with sadness. "And today makes it the third time we are having dinner together as a family. It's quite sad, isn't it?"

Our eyes dropped, unable to meet his gaze. We suddenly felt a pang of guilt in our hearts. Regret and sorrow filled us, knowing that every bit of his words were the sad truth, and for the first time in a long time, we all felt the same way.

We can tell that father deeply regretted not spending more time with the family. The emotion in his voice was undeniable.

"Well, Father," Austin, the third oldest of us siblings, began, taking a deep breath. "You know how busy we all are. Even before the company started, we never had any time to spare, and now that it's up and running, there's even less time for us. So please, don't blame us for that."

My father let out a heavy sigh. "I do not blame any of you," he said. "Despite the fact that we are always busy, shouldn't we have had time to ourselves as a family? Isn't that the right way to go?"

"Dad, on behalf of my siblings, I'd like to apologize. We promise to do better going forward, right guys?" I said, hoping to defuse the tension in the room.

But instead of an agreement, all I got were sneers and taunting stares from my siblings.

"That's okay, Liam," my father said, giving me a warm smile. "I appreciate the sentiment."

I smiled back at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. It was just me and my father, connected by a bond that felt stronger than ever. I felt like his favorite child, and my heart fluttered with happiness.

My father shifted in his chair, clearing his throat again. "But that's not the only reason I've asked you all here tonight," he said, his voice gaining strength. "There's something else I need to tell you."

My father started off, his expression calm and composed. "Actually, I called you all here to discuss the management rights of the company," he said.

As my father spoke, I saw my siblings' eyes light up with greed. Their lips curved into mischievous smiles, and they tried to hide their delight, but I could see right through their facade. I knew they were already scheming and plotting, determined to get their hands on those management rights at any cost.

"As you all know," my father began, "I own the most shares of the company, a total of thirty-five percent." He paused, and then continued, "I'm growing older, and I think it's time for me to retire from the company."

"Does that mean you're going to hand over your shares to me, Father?" Dominica's eyes glinted with greed and conceit as a smug smirk played across her lips. "I am the eldest, after all."

As soon as the words left Dominica's lips, my brothers turned to look at her, their expressions filled with disapproval.

"And what about me, Father?" Henry asked. "Don't I get a share of your holdings? I am the second-born, after all."

"Yes, it's not fair that Dominica gets to have everything," Austin agreed. "We should have something too, Father."

"Father," I called out, and all eyes turned towards me. I felt their scrutiny, like a spotlight on me. "Do I also get a share of your holdings?"

My siblings turned to look at me, their eyes brimming with scorn. Their lips curled into mischievous smiles, and then, they all burst into laughter.

"Oh, poor Liam," Dominica said in between laughs, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "He thinks he's going to get some of the shares!"

She said to my brothers as their laughter increased even more. I felt ashamed for even saying a word, but I didn't let it show on my face.

"You're the youngest of us all," Austin said, his tone mocking but with a clear warning underneath. "Stick to that!"

Their laughter turned into a crazed cackle, and my blood began to boil with anger. I clenched my fists beneath the table, my knuckles turning white. As I stole a glance at my parents, I hoped they would say something to put a stop to this.

"You'll have to get through the three of us before you can get your hands on those shares." Henry's voice was filled with laughter, but his words were firm.

I remained silent as they laughed, wiping away the tears of joy that had formed in the corners of their eyes. But then, my father's voice cut through the air, ending their laughter abruptly. "But he doesn't have to."

"What do you mean, father?" Dominica asked, her voice brimming with a hint of fear as her eyes darted from our father to me.

"If you had all just let me finish, you wouldn't have been asking me that question." My father said, his voice calm but domineering.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at each of my siblings in turn. "As I was saying," he said, "I called you all here to discuss who would take over the management of the company, with the help of my thirty-five percent share."

"But it has to be me, father. Obviously," Dominica voiced.

"It doesn't have to be you," my father said, his words sending a shock wave through the room. Everyone's eyes widened in bewilderment. "The one who marries first will take over the company, along with my shares."

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by Dominica's outraged gasp. For years, she had taunted my brothers and I with the idea that she would inherit everything from our father. It had always been a source of frustration and pain for us, and now our father was turning that on its head. A wave of hope washed over me, and I could see the same feeling reflected in the eyes of my brothers. But Dominica was a different story. Her face had turned red with anger and indignation.

"What do you mean, father?" Dominica's voice was filled with rage.

My mother spoke up for the first time. "Your father has thought this through carefully," she said. "It's not a decision he made lightly."

Dominica's eyes flashed with anger. "But he can't do that! He promised to give me his shares. The firstborn always gets everything!"

"Well, all that is about to change, sister." Austin said mischievously, a sly smirk on his lips.

Dominica's eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened. "But that's not fair!" she protested. "Why should marriage be the deciding factor?!"

My father sighed. "Because marriage shows maturity and responsibility," he said. "And those are qualities that I'm looking for in the person who takes over the company."

Our father's words were firm and final. "I've decided, and my decision is final. Whoever gets married first will take over the company. That's the end of the discussion."

"Yes, and as you know, I also own fourteen percent of the company shares," my mother said, her voice calm but firm. "And I intend to leave my shares to the first of you to have a child."

There was a collective gasp around the table, as we all stared at her in shock. We never saw this coming, neither from our father nor mother. They entirely changed the system, and it was shocking to us.

Dominica's face turned a shade of red I'd never seen before. "What kind of ridiculous rule is that?!" she sputtered. "How can you decide something like that based on who has a baby first?!"

"It's my decision to make, and I've made it," my mother said, her voice steady. "I'm not going to change my mind."

Dominica's hands were clenched into fists, and her breathing was heavy and ragged. "This is ridiculous!" she cried. "I can't believe you're doing this! What is wrong with both of you?!"

"They're not getting any younger, you know," Henry said to Dominica, a fake tone of sympathy in his voice. "They want to see their grandchildren before they die, don't you understand, sister? Well, this would be a great time to propose to Stacy. We have been dating for two years, after all!"

I scoffed, and the sound seemed to echo in the silent room. I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the turnout of the situation. I dropped my napkin on the table and stood up. The room was dead silent, and all eyes were on me.

I let out a deep sigh. "You all underestimated me," I said, a sense of satisfaction settling over me. "Now you'll see what I can do."

I pushed back my chair and stood up, heading for the door.

"Where are you going, son?" my mother asked, her voice tinged with worry.

I turned to face them, a small smile on my lips. "To find myself a wife."

"See you on the other side, siblings!" I said, a mischievous smile playing on my lips as I walked out of the house, leaving them all in stunned silence.

AURORA'S POINT OF VIEW

"No!" I said weakly, my voice barely audible but with determination as my eyes shut open. I stared up at him, my voice gaining strength as I spoke. "I won't let you do this!"

My father, who had been leaning over me, moved back in surprise and fear. His face filled with rage as he raised the weapon above his head, preparing to strike. "You fucking piece of shit!" he snarled, his voice trembling with fury. "You scared the hell out of me!"

I laid flat on the floor, my eyes following the weapon as it went through the air towards me. With the last strength in me, I rolled over, avoiding the hit , feeling the air rush past me as the weapon whistled through the air.

I sat up against the wall, my breathing ragged and my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I knew I had to do something, but what? I didn't have a weapon, and I was weak. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way to escape.

I looked up to see my father standing over me, his face twisted with rage. He let out scoffed in disbelief. He had thought that I was without any strength left.

"Get back here, you bitch!" he snarled, his hand outstretched towards me. I slowly stood up, keeping my eyes on my goal.

"You actually dodged my attack?" he asked. I could hear the anger in his voice as he started coming towards me. But I fled to the other side of the room.

I was already moving towards the door, my hand reaching for the doorknob. My fingers curled around it, twisting it with all my strength. The door creaked open, and I could feel the fresh air on my face. Freedom was just a few steps away.

I stepped forward, heart pounding, but something caught my eye. Before I could react, pain exploded in my leg. I felt a sharp pain as warm liquid began to seep through my night wear. I looked down, and my blood ran cold. It was a knife!

How did my father get a knife?!

"Aah!" I groaned in pain, clutching my leg as I ran out of the door, heading for nowhere in particular.

I just needed to get away from here!

"Come back here, Aurora!" I heard my father's voice behind me, and I could hear the rage in his voice.

I ran faster, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I could hear him getting closer, his footsteps pounding on the pavement. He was catching up to me.

"I'm so sorry, Mom," I whispered, my heart aching with guilt. "I'll come back for you, I promise." I took a deep breath and began to run harder.

I pushed myself harder, my injured leg screaming with each step. My breath came in ragged bursts, but I couldn't stop. My father's footsteps echoed behind me, growing louder. Panic clawed at my chest.

The moonlight gave me just enough light to keep running, but there was nothing around-no house, no help, just trees that seemed to stretch endlessly.

My father had the perfect opportunity to catch up to me, kill me and get rid of my body, but if I could just reach the police station up ahead, I might survive. My heart hammered in my chest as I pushed myself to go faster.

My father's voice came from behind, full of rage. "I'm going to kill you, Aurora!"

Oh, no! He's getting close!

I turned to look at his figure holding the weapon tightly as he ran faster heading for me. I knew I had to get to the police station as quickly as possible.

My father's words gave me a burst of energy, and I willed my legs to move faster.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Help! Somebody, please help me!" but my voice was lost in the night.

Blood soaked my clothes, pain shot through me, but I pushed on.

Suddenly, I saw a light approaching.

I thought I was mistaken or hallucinating but no, it was certainly the headlights of a car! I heard a car engine in the distance.

My heart leapt with hope. If I could just flag it down, I might be able to get help.

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Lord!" I muttered to myself in sheer happiness.

I stuck out my arm and waved frantically, hoping that this savior of mine would notice and stop the car.

My father was out of sight, but I knew he was still after me.

"Help! Please, help me! He's trying to kill me!" I screamed, pointing at my father as a car sped toward me.

I waved my arms, glancing over my shoulder. The car didn't slow down. Then, tires screeched, and I was thrown into the air, crashing to the ground with a sharp thud. Pain exploded through my body, my head pounding from hitting a rock.

The car stopped, headlights blinding me. A man stepped out, frozen in place. My vision blurred, but I could tell he was in a suit, polished shoes gleaming.

With the last of my strength, I crawled to my knees, pleading.

"Help! Please, help me!" I cried, grabbing the stranger's leg. "He's trying to kill me!"

The man's eyes widened, and he took a step back, his expression was unreadable but I could tell that he was feeling pensive under his cold gaze.

I clung to his pants, desperate. "Please, you don't understand, there's no time to waste! He's right behind me! He's going to kill me!"

"Who?" The stranger asked, pulling away his pants from my grip.

"My father! He hit my mother- she's barely breathing! Please, you have to help us! He will be here soon." I pleaded desperately, hurriedly saying my words.

The stranger stared at me for a minute. It felt like eternity because I knew just how important that one minute was to me.

"I can't help you," he finally said, his voice as cold as his gaze. "I won't."

I let out a defeated sigh, a wave of despair washing over me.

"What?! You can't just leave me like this!" I yelled, frustration and pain twisting my face. "You hit me with your car! The least you can do is help! Think of me as your sister and please, help me."

"What if you and your father have cooked up this whole thing as a scam?" he said, suspicion clouding his eyes. "Maybe you're nothing more than robbers, trying to trick me out of my car and my money. Maybe this is your go-to routine for every driver you come across. How can I know you're being honest when I can't even tell if you're lying?"

"No! Please, you have to believe me!" I begged, my voice cracking. "I'm telling the truth. I'm in danger!"

"If it's money you need, then-" he began.

"I don't need your money!" I screamed, desperate. "Just help me! I'll do anything-be your maid, your slave-just take me to my mom. She needs a hospital, and I need your help. You can even drop us there if you like. I promise we'll never cross paths again!"

"You'll do anything if I help you?" the stranger asked, a sly smile on his lips.

"Anything! Just help me!" I pleaded, frantic.

"I'll help," he started off, calm and collected. "I'll get your mother the treatment she needs and I'll get you both to safety, far away from the hands of your father. I'll provide for the both of you and make sure that you never have to worry about your father finding you, only... if you agree to marry me."

My jaw dropped, my thoughts racing as I tried to make sense of what he had just said. "M-arry you?" I stammered, my voice quivering with shock.

"You can't?" he raised an eyebrow. "Then I can't help." he said as he turned to leave.

Suddenly, my father's voice cut through the air, playful but menacing. "Aurora, where are you?" His footsteps grew louder.

I turned to see him, weapon in hand, eyes locked on me. A cold chill ran down my spine. I felt the hair stand up in my body.

"Please! Help me!" I begged, clutching his pants. "He's here. Please!"

"Will you marry me?" he asked again.

I glanced at my father, then back at the stranger. His footsteps grew louder, and I realized I had to make a choice. Could I trust this stranger more than my own father?

"Yes! Yes, I'll marry you! Just help me!" I screamed.

His eyes lit up. "Good. Get in the car."

"Help me. I can't move too well. I hurt my legs." I told him, and he offered to help, assisting me to get into the back seat of the car.

We got in and zoomed off, away from my father just in time, heading straight for my mother.

I looked back and saw the look of surprise on the face of my father. He got a hold of what was happening and began to run after us.

"Just wait a bit, mom. I finally found someone to help us." I said to myself, still unable to believe that I just agreed to marry a man I just met.