Page 1 of Fractured Souls

Prologue

August 18th, 2015

As I push the slider open, clutching onto my daughter's arm, I realize my mistake of not having checked for anyone outside first. A man shoves me back into the house and then punches me so hard I fall to the ground. My jaw starts to ache, and I feel blood dripping from my mouth. I hear my little girl scream as three more men come in with the first one. One of them that I faintly recognize from years ago grabs my girl and holds her away as she cries and tries to fight his hold. His cold, dead eyes look at me, and he smiles. His dirty teeth are on full display. My mind threatens to take me back to a dark place, but I fight it. I have to fight for my girl. The other three that I don't recognize lift me and slam me down on a chair. I kick and hit, but I am no match for three large men, so they easily tie me to the chair.

I look over at my daughter, tears streaming down her face as her eyes are wide with terror. A level of fear I am all too familiar with but never wanted her to experience. But I was stupid. So, so stupid. I let myself get comfortable with our life here. Then the three men start to beat the shit out of me. I try to be strong for my baby, biting my tongue to hold back my screams, but I don't think I can be when I know there is no getting out of this.

The pain of watching my daughter have to see this outweighs any physical pain I feel. Which leads me to say things I shouldn't. “What do you bastards want? The old fucker couldn't come deal with me himself? How did you even find me?” I demand as I glare at them.

Not that they care; they laugh and joke, ignoring me. Untilhisvoice rings out in the room, causing the tears I was holding back to leak. This is the end.

“Oh, don’t worry, the old fucker is here to deal with you himself,” he says as he comes towards me from the front door.

I feel my heartrate pick up. Fuck, we are going to die. Unless I can get my baby girl to remember what I told her repeatedly."If anything ever happens, you find an opening and you run. You run, Harley. You leave me and run.”I told her that on a weekly basis, always making sure she repeated it back. Knowing the chances of this happening. I needed to feel like she might survive it. As long as no one finds her if she survives.

I take a deep breath and glance at my girl. My brave, brave girl. She has tears streaming down her beautiful face, her bright hazel eyes dulled to an almost brown color right now. I give her a tiny smile and mouth,It's going to be okay.She shakes her head and tries to fight the hold of the man holding her, scratching his arms and kicking her legs, but it's no use. He may be old now, with a large belly, but he still is stronger than she is. But if she can escape his firm grip, she may be able to outrun him.

I shut my eyes and lock my emotions down tight, not wanting my baby to see her mom in pain and begging for her life. I'll stay silent as they torture me. It wouldn't be the first time. I can lock my pain down if it protects her from more trauma.

The older fucker laughs in my face, his wretched hot breath filling my nostrils, and I have to hold back a gag. I hate the smell of cigarettes. He begins beating me over and over again, making me as weak as possible. My ribs crack. My baby screams and sobs. I keep my eyes shut, wishing this was a dream. I bite my tongue hard, trying not to cry out. Blood pools in my mouth, and I have to spit so I don't choke. My head throbs, and I can feel my right eye swelling shut.

He calls for the other guys to help him, as they had stepped back while he beat me. They untie me and lift my limp, aching body and drop it on the kitchen table. I think I try to fight them, but my mind is so fuzzy, and pain radiates through my body. I don't know if I am actually moving anything or not. They tie me down to the table, arms spread above my head and legs spread eagle. I can't see my baby now. She's behind my head. I pray her eyes are closed. I want to yell for her to shut them, but I know from experience the old fucker would force her to keep them open if I said anything.

He takes a knife and runs it down the front of my clothes, slicing them open, not caring that he also slices me. "I've waited thirteen years for this. You didn't make it easy. But yet you slacked off. You thought I’d give up." He cackles as he takes the hilt of his knife and roughly shoves it inside me. This time, there is no stopping the scream. I feel the blood from his rough use dripping down my thighs. The pain never eases, and my legs tremble as I do everything I can to show little to no reaction for my daughter's sake. Another piece of me stolen byhishands. I faintly hear my daughter screaming and wailing for me behind me as the older fucker throws the knife to the ground and begins raping me. "Oh perfect, perfect girl. Thirteen years and I still remember the feel of your perfect bloody pussy."

I feel myself falling into a numb state. A state I use to be so familiar with, but I hold on. I force myself to feel the pain so I can find a way for my daughter to survive this.

At least an hour passes, if not more. I try to stay silent besides some whimpers that I can't hold back. I still can't see my daughter, but I can hear her crying. I can feel the blood running down my legs from him forcing himself into me. I feel as if I'm being ripped in half with every thrust. His men stand around me, groping me, jacking off on me, cutting me, degrading me, hitting me. It doesn't stop. Even when I pass out from the pain and my mind shuts down.

I wake up when cold water splashes on my face. A scream works its way out of my throat as I feel all the pain throughout my body at once. At some point, the cocky bastards had untied me, assuming I am still the same girl I was before and wouldn't fight through the pain. The old fucker bends over and whispers his plans for my baby girl. I scream, I fight, I do whatever I can to help her. I finally get off the table and can see her.

The man holding her has a knife to her throat. I freeze, trying to get her to realize what she needs to do, and she does it. My baby is the strongest girl there is. She fights like no other and with one good hit, the man holding her releases her. I scream, "RUN. DON'T STOP. RUN. RUN, HARLEY!" My voice is hoarse from screaming as loud as I can as I watch my little fighter take off and not look back.

I can die knowing she will survive and be okay. She has a chance. I have to believe she will make it. I smile at the fucker, and he looks livid.

“GET HER!” he roars at his men. They take off to look for her and he turns back to me, taking his anger on me with his fists. I endure it all, not having the strength to fight back. When he finally stops, he grips my hair and yanks me up from where I ended up on my ground. “I'm going to find her. I'm going to find her and I'm going to keep her for years locked up as my toy. You no good bitch. You were too rotten for me anyway. Enjoy hell, sweet—”

Before he can say more, his men come running back in. “Boss, we’ve got to go. Cops are coming, and we can't find the brat.”

“FUCK!” he snarls.

He ties me up quickly and then has his men set fire to my home. They funnel out while fire swarms around me. I cough and feel myself getting weaker by the second. I'm going to be burned alive while screaming and praying my baby girl makes it out okay and is never, ever in the same room as that man again.

She's a fighter. I have to believe that.

In the end, I did the best I could. At least, I hope I did. There are some things that don't end in your favor. I didn't believe I'd get to live the rest of my life never having to face my past again. But I also didn't expect it to end up the way it did.

I can only hope my sweet Harley gets to live a life full of love and laughter and that one day, she can forgive me.

ChapterOne

Present Day

October 15th, 2018

Harley

As I walk on stage, I look out at the audience and a huge grin comes over my face. There right in the front row is my mom. Beautiful, elegant, and my biggest fan. I've been playing piano since I was little. My mom has played for many years as well. She taught me everything I know and has always shown up to every event or concert I've had. She signs me up for every competition there is. Even though money is tight, she always finds a way for it to happen just so I can do what I love to do. Someday, I'm going to pay her back for everything she does for me. That'll be the happiest day of my life.

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