Then Oliver stepped in. His eyes were full of disgust, his lips curled into a sneer. “You really can’t do anything right, can you? You’re nothing but a curse in this house.”
And then the blows came. One after another.
I lost count after the first ten. My body folded against the wall, but his fists didn’t stop. The air left my lungs. My cries filled the room but were drowned by his fury.
By the time he was done, I wasn’t sure if I was breathing anymore. My body trembled, my skin burned, my heart… shattered.
All I could do was cry, my sobs muffled against the cold floor, as the voices of the people I had loved most in the world echoed around me—mocking me, despising me, rejecting me.
And in that moment, I realized…
I was utterly, devastatingly alone.
Every part of my body ached. My ribs throbbed, my cheek stung, and the bruises on my arms burned each time I tried to move. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think.