Him & I

SIENNA-ROSE

The moonlight glinted off the blade in my father’s hand, casting an eerie glow. Fear coursed through me, as vast and deep as the Atlantic Ocean. I felt like a spectator in my own life, watching the scene unfold from the sidelines.

As he rose from his chair, I was rooted to the spot. My heart pounded wildly, a heavy weight pressing on my chest. My organs felt like they were on the brink of shutting down.

His eyes held a sinister glint as he moved towards me. I wanted to run, but my body refused to cooperate. Before I could gather my thoughts, the cold steel of the blade was pressed against my cheek.

“Sienna, your mother and I have told you about coming home this late, especially with boys.”

I was at a loss for words. Any response would only fuel his anger. So, I chose silence.

The pressure of the blade increased, slicing through my skin and drawing blood. I bit back a scream, but a whimper escaped my lips.

He seemed to feed off my pain, his twisted pleasure evident in his eyes.

“Was that a whimper, Sienna? I’m disappointed. You’re already crying and I’ve barely started. You’re just a weak whore.”

His fist connected with my already bruised cheek, sending me crashing into the dining room table. Pain radiated through my body, my spine likely bruised or fractured.

Before I could recover, his hand was around my throat, cutting off my air supply.

His rage seemed to fuel him, giving him the strength to do anything. Even kill me. But my fear wasn’t for myself. It was for the others in the house who would bear the brunt of his anger once I was gone.

“You think I didn’t see those two guys drop you off? You’re a slut. You never help around the house.” His words stung. I was still a virgin.

I’d done everything to make my family proud, but it was never enough. I worked two jobs to cover their drug, alcohol, and clothing expenses.

“I’ve done everything you asked…” My voice was barely a whisper, the lack of oxygen making my chest burn.

My words seemed to infuriate him further. I was flung across the room, colliding with the staircase.

I was gasping for air, my body numb. The impact had knocked the wind out of me.

He was on top of me, the blade pressing into my stomach. He’d never been this violent before. He’d hit me, yes, but he’d never used a weapon.

I was too lost in my thoughts to notice his raised hand. The blade cut deep into my stomach before I could react.

He pulled the knife out and aimed for my throat. I wasn’t going to die like this, at the hands of a drunken abuser.

I managed to kick him in the groin, wriggling out from under him and making a run for it.

But my escape was short-lived. A sharp pain in my thigh stopped me in my tracks. I hobbled towards the back door, trying not to aggravate the wound.

He followed me into the kitchen, grabbing another knife. I was going to die here. I’d never get to thank Sophie for being my only real family, or see Damien again. I was alone.

He lunged at me again, slicing a deep gash from my belly button to my right side. I was losing a lot of blood from the stab wounds and the cut.

He grabbed my hair, pulling me away from the door. I was trapped. There was no escaping him.

Just as he was about to slit my throat, my little sister Ellie came downstairs. I seized the opportunity, pushing him away and running for my life, ignoring the pain.

I was covered in blood and bruises, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was getting away from him and finding a safe place to either die or get help.

I ran through the deserted streets, grateful for the early hour. I didn’t stop until I reached the café, praying that Sophie had left the back door unlocked.

Despite my injuries, I made it to the café in record time. But by the time I got there, my leg was numb and turning pale.

I knew it was due to blood loss, but I couldn’t stop now.

As soon as I stepped into the back of the café, I yanked the knife out of my leg. I was sure the wounds on my stomach had torn open more from all the running I’d just done. But I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. That couldn’t be good.

The door was just a few steps away, but I couldn’t make it. I needed sleep. I was so tired, and every step felt like I was dragging a ton of weight.

My legs gave out and I collapsed onto the cool floor, waiting for either my end to come or for someone kind to find me and save me. Again.

It was kind of funny, in a sad way. In just twenty-four hours, I’d needed saving twice. That was pretty pathetic.

I could almost imagine the world laughing at me, enjoying the bad luck it had been throwing my way. But in the quiet moments, my thoughts drifted to Damien. He’d saved me earlier. Maybe he’d do it again.

It was a nice thought, but probably just wishful thinking. Still, I was glad I’d met him before tonight. I’d never felt such a connection with someone so quickly. He was like a dream, someone I felt I knew but couldn’t quite place.

Maybe I’d dreamed of him during my darkest nights, or maybe I’d seen him around the city a couple of times. It didn’t really matter.

What mattered was that he’d been there for me when I needed someone the most. In the short time I’d known him, he’d shown me what it felt like to be cared for, to be seen.

He was like an angel in disguise. My angel.

As I thought about the dark-haired boy with the piercing blue eyes, I found myself wondering about his full name, Damien Black. I knew I’d heard it before, but I couldn’t remember where.

London is a big city, full of people who love gossip more than their morning coffee. There were countless places I could have heard his name.

But my thoughts were cut short as my vision started to blur and fade. My eyelids felt heavy, and I couldn’t fight the darkness creeping into my mind.

Is this what dying feels like?

I thought it would be more dramatic. There was no light, no welcoming figure on the other side, just darkness and silence.

In the darkness, a golden mist appeared, swirling and curling towards me, urging me to grab hold. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew I wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Not before I’d really lived.

The golden mist solidified in my hand, and a feeling of reassurance washed over me. I knew I’d be okay, that if I held on, nothing could take me away from the life I wanted to live. I was a fighter, in life and in death, and that would never change.

Time seemed to stretch on forever. I felt like I was floating outside my body, but I could still hear the sounds of the world around me.

I could hear the bustling streets of London waking up, the sun rising, the distant sound of heels clicking on the pavement. But I couldn’t find the strength to open my eyes.

“Oh dear…Sienna.” I recognized that voice. It was Sophie. Relief washed over me. I was glad to be found, but I felt guilty for making her find me like this.

She shouldn’t have to take care of me like this, but I had no one else to turn to.

Everything was fuzzy, like my senses couldn’t focus. But I could feel Sophie sit down next to me, cradling my head in her lap.

Her voice was faint, but I could hear her repeating, “Please pick up.” I wondered who she was calling. An ambulance? The police?

“Damien, you need to come to the café right away. We have a problem.” Why was she calling Damien and not a hospital?

I didn’t have the energy to wonder about it. I just focused on the feeling of her hand brushing my hair back from my face.

It was comforting, in a strange way. I felt safe with her there, like nothing could hurt me anymore.

“No, I’m fine, but…” She paused, her hand resting on my chest. “It’s Sienna. She’s hurt badly. I don’t think she’s breathing.”

Sophie started crying, and I felt terrible for putting her in this position.

Maybe my father was right. Maybe I was just a problem, a source of stress for everyone around me.

We sat in silence, and I listened to the sounds of life around me. The birds chirping, the chatter of people on their way to work or school.

Everything seemed more vibrant, more alive. Maybe people just don’t take the time to appreciate the little things, like the feel of the wind on your skin, or the solid ground beneath your feet.

Sophie’s voice was just a soft murmur in the background. The chirping of the birds above made me feel at peace.

I could feel myself starting to fade away, my grip on the golden mist slipping. But I wanted to hear his voice one more time.

I felt a touch on my neck, but I barely noticed. I felt like I was floating.

I couldn’t feel my body anymore. It was like I was just a consciousness, aware of the sounds around me but nothing else.

After a while, I heard it. The voice I’d been waiting for.

“PAGE DR. BROWN. NOW!” He sounded scared, and in pain. Was he hurting too? I didn’t understand why he sounded so…broken.

I could hear people moving around me, but I didn’t understand why. It was scary. I was somewhere unfamiliar, and I had no control over my body.

I didn’t even know where Sophie or Damien were.

I heard a woman’s voice, faint and distant. She called someone Diablo. Who was that?

“He’s the reason she’s in this mess. I left her once. I’m not about to do it again.”

His voice was thick with regret and anger, and the worry in his tone sent my senses into overdrive. I didn’t understand what was happening, but they’d found me. Everything was going to be okay now.

Then, my world plunged into darkness. The voices of Damien and the doctor faded away, and the steady beep of the heart monitor I was hooked up to went silent. The golden haze vanished, and I was left alone in the quiet dark.

If this is what dying feels like, I’m having second thoughts. I can’t die yet. There’s too much I haven’t done—falling in love, getting married, starting a family.

My life is just starting. I’ll be damned if I’m going to give up without a fight.

Somehow, Damien and Sophie had become my lifeline. Knowing they were there for me gave me the strength to keep fighting.

I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I’m a fighter. I’ll keep fighting until I’ve got nothing left. And even then, I won’t go down easy.