Running

Chapter 9

ELEANORS POV~

Right as I enter my room an elongated sigh escapes me.

The search was exhausting.

Listening to Emily accuse me of liking Spencer was exhausting.

Walking in and out of an elevator was exhausting.

But now, I lean against my door, and butterfly's form in the pit of my stomach. All that comes to mind is Spencer Reid. Why? Why is it so easy for that switch to click? One second, it's just a passing thought, and the next it's all I can think about. The power of words is stronger than one may think.

But suddenly, always when I least expect, a memory hits me right in the face, leaving me breathless and terrified.

"Girls come on! Let's go to the store," my mom yells from downstairs. I run as fast as I can out of the room. Anything to get away from my dad.

"Nora! Not so fast," my dad spits from the couch. "I'm gonna need your help with something, and you're the only one with the leg power to do it."

'Yeah, and I get all my practice running from you!' I think to myself.

"No, that's alright dad, I think I'm gonna go."

"Nora..." he growls.

"Mom let's go!" I say excitedly, as I slip on my sandals and put a hand on the door.

"No Nora, your dad needs help. Don't be rude," she says.

I give her a pleading look but she stays oblivious. Oblivious to the terror. To the torture. Just, completely and utterly unknowing to everything that happens after she steps out of those doors.

"Fine," I say in a small voice.

She leaves with both my sisters, and my dad grins from the couch.

Secretly, I slip on my running shoes.

"Before I help you with whatever it is you need help with, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

I try my best to be silent, so that he doesn't decipher my plan, and after I'm sure that he has no idea, I grip the backdoor and push it open. Thank God, it doesn't creak.

I run outside. As quickly as physically capable. And my dads right. I do have the leg power. The leg power to get as far away as possible, as fast as possible.

But not before long, I hear the tires of the ATV behind me.

He loves this. Cat and mouse. He always lets me think I'm getting away before he comes ripping through the woods.

I hear his howling laugh float through the wind and instantly tears stream down my face.

Soon, he stops the quad. But that only means he's gonna start running. That's how he gets his endgame.

One time I yelled at him to just run me over, but he'd said 'well we can't kill our prey before we play with it, can we?'

By this point though my legs are already weak. He comes up behind me, grips my shoulders and pulls me back.

"NO!" I yell.

"Dad please. I'm fourteen now, it's been two years, just please, please stop!"

"No way," he growls.

"When you get to the age where you're old enough to have a boyfriend, I want to make sure you're too dirty and traumatized to get even the smallest fish. The sea may be huge but the only thing you're rod is catching, is me."

"No," I cry. "NO! PLEASE!"

He pulls at my leggings.

"You're just a dirty little whore now aren't you. Yes. That's what you are. Nobody's gonna wanna touch a piece of trash like you!"

I open my eyes before the memory can go on any further. But I know full well what came next.

A tear slides down my cheek, and I wipe it away. I won't let him get to me. Not now. Not ever. He can't. And I can't let it happen.

The clock reads 8:50, and a yawn replaces the cry that wants to come out. I sigh, pulling myself off the floor to change into my pyjamas. Plaid short shorts, and an oversized black tee. I'd never gotten into the habit of calling them booty shorts, although I suppose that's the real term for them.

I crawl into bed, pulling the blanket up under my chin before turning onto my side and shutting my eyes.