Hazel

HAZEL'S POV

"Come back here! Get back here this instant!"

I docked from under his arm, and swerved the hit of the bottle he threw at me, the glass went crashing towards the wall, shattering into a million pieces on the floor, close to me.

Terror filled my eyes as I continued to run. My heart pounded against my chest, and I clutched it with my right hand - my chest, that is - to steady my breathing. My heels grew sore, and my legs weakened under me.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had been running around the small house, dodging whatever it is he threw at me, until my strength failed me and I crumbled to the ground. My knees landed first, before the rest of my body, and my face kissed the hard and cold concrete.

"Stupid girl! Ungrateful bastard!" He screamed at me. Tears gathered in my eyelids and flew down my cheeks. I was tired, tired of fighting for my life everyday. I was tired of surviving, I wanted to live, like every normal person.

But there was nothing normal about me, there had never been.

I turned around, and lay on my back, praying for the strength to stand up and continue to run. It was already too late for me. He approached me and pressed the sole of his feet into my stomach, trapping me on the ground.

My face tightened as I screamed out in pain. The louder I screamed, the more he pressed his feet into my stomach. When he was satisfied, he lowered himself and grabbed the strands of my hair.

My screaming intensified, my scalp burned from the effect of his pull, but he didn't care. I felt like my skin was being torn from my skull as he yanked me up by my hair, and flung me across the room.

I landed on a small and worn out couch in the distal end of the room, while pressing my hand to my stomach, and coughing.

He was in front of me before I could regain myself. His firm and hard hands gripped my neck, and he raised me up from the cough, by my neck.

I was slowly losing my breath, beads of sweat trickled down my face, and formed a nasty pool by my neck. I didn't dare look into his eyes, the hatred in them always scared me.

"Look at her! Look at your mother!" He screamed out loud. My eyes opened slowly, and I cast them on the small bed, behind him.

My sick and frail mother lay there, with her eyes closed, but I could tell she could hear everuthing from the way her chest rose and fell. She had been sick for more than half of my life, and it only kept getting worse everyday.

"Look at her! I have spent my money on her for eleven years, and now, when we need you to do something for her, you want to run away? You wanted to escape?" He yelled at my face, I felt his saliva bath my face.

Between his hand and my tears, I couldn't tell which choked more. I held his wrist and decided to beg for my life.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no we eds could be formed. He must have noticed I wanted to say something, before he threw me back on the couch.

It was a wonder to me how he managed to pick me up and fling me around the room like I was nothing but a piece of paper to him.

I held my throat as I coughed and cried. I only had few seconds before he attacked me again, I had to make it count.

"Papa! Please, you know that I would do anything for my mother..." I stopped to cough, hot tears running down my eyes.

"I would work twice as hard in the farm papa. I promise to toil day and night, I would do anything. But please..." I pressed both palms together and held it out to him as I fell to my knees.

"Please do not sell me to the trans-atlantic traders. They are terrible people, there is no telling what they would do to me..."

"Shut up!" My father yelled at me. I felt a tight knot in my stomach.

My father.

He had never behaved like one, right from when I was growing up. As a little girl, I noticed that he always kept me far away from him, like he didn't want me. He would beat me for the smallest things and scold me harshly if I ever came close to him.

I always thought it was because I was different, I still do. Unlike my peers who had brown, black and blonde colours of hair, my hair was a strange shade of blue. Mother called it cobalt.

It appeared black, but it wasn't truly black, and blue, but it wasn't truly blue. And it matched with the color of my eyes, which made me look strange. Often times, my friends would tease me and call me a witch, because I didn't look normal, like the rest of them.

It became worse as I grew. My body had taken a strange form; my hips, buttocks and breasts seemed to grow two times faster than the rest of my mates did. As a result, I was a twenty one year old young lady with big breasts, buttocks and hips. Many males in the kingdom had began to swoon around me, earning me the envy of most of the girls in the kingdom, and that envy soon turned to hate until I was all alone.