PROLOGUE- HELL'S PROMISE - I

I hold Chloe’s hand tight. Deep inside myself, I feel the strong urge to run and hide, but I know it won't help at all. The best outcome is sitting tight and taking it, whatever it ends up being. I can see the look of growing fear on Chloe's face. It won't do any good for her to be scared. If she starts crying, I know he'll put it all on her just cause he doesn't have the patience for it. I decide that the best thing I can do is leave the room, even if its where I feel safest.

"Hey, Chloe? Lets read together when I come back, ok?" I ask, hoping she understands the situation we're in well enough that she won't fight back.  She takes a moment, but she gently nods with clear understanding. I feel just a bit more relaxed with that as the case, and turn my attention to the door. Slowly grabbing the knob, I turn it and let the door open wide. The hallway for the upstairs feels impossibly long. I resist the urge to slink back into my room in fear. For Chloe, for Chloe. I push onward, when I hear the front door slam open.

"CHRIS, GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" I bolt down the hall and hop down the staircase two stairs at a time. I do my best to make sure not a single sound or word escapes my lips as I reach the bottom of the staircase and see a hole in the wall the size of the doorknob. I feel my breath catch in my lungs, but I continue forward. I see him, waiting at the kitchen table. In front of him, there's a broken plate. Mom stands next to him, her eyes down and hardly looking there.

"Chris...why is this plate broken?" Father asks, calmly. I try to open my mouth, but the terror in me won't let me. So instead, I stand there like a total fool. He seems to think that's the right answer, as he continues. "Tell me why you broke it." He asks. I grit my teeth. In truth, I hadn't. Chloe was making lunch and it had just fallen over. Still, letting her get in trouble was not something I was going to let happen.  Thus, I simply thought up the reasoning that I had rehearsed to myself while waiting for his return.

"I was putting away dishes and dropped one sir." I said clearly and concisely. I hoped that would be plenty for him but, as it would seem, It was not. He smacked the table, his face close to convulsing with rage. Shit, wrong answer. Too late now. I look down at the floor,  waiting for him to freak out at me. He does, and god, is it loud. I bite my tongue to keep from accidently talking back as he goes on and on. My mother seems uninterested in doing anything to interrupt him. I don't blame her. She used to in the beginning but now, it's...so much worse.

"I'm sorry..." I let those words whimper out when I see him getting up. No, no, no no no please. I stumble back and stare up at him as he approaches. Please, I wasn't that bad, I did what you wanted me to, so please. He stops, looking down at me, his fists clenched tight. He seems to be considering. Thinking deeply...I feel myself on the verge of tears as he keeps me suspended in insecurity. After a moment, he finally looks away, gritting his teeth.

"Get out." He grumbled. I gladly do, scrambling to the staircase and heading up them without a second thought. Once I'm back in the upstairs hallway, I pant and lean up against the wall. I take a moment to properly collect myself before I hear voices from downstairs. Father's and Mother's. Quiet bickering. Also not abnormal, but after this, it just makes me hurt. I carefully curl up in a ball, wishing that everything would just stop. Too much. It's all too much for me. I let myself cry just a little, safe from the judgement of anyone but myself...well, I was, until I felt my sister's arms around me, holding me tightly.

"Let's go read." I whisper.

...

The night gently drags on as we quietly read through the library books we'd picked up from school. Occasionally one of us would make a comment and we would have a quiet conversation about whatever it was we were reading before returning to said books. It was nice. Generally it was all we got when it came to having fun outside of school. I'm glad that at the very least, the one thing he can't take away from me is the school's property.

"Chris?" Chloe spoke up. I looked over, half closing my book. "Do you think that things will always be like this?" The worry was spilling all over her face. I refrain from answering at first, not quite sure what the best thing to say is. If I say something positive, is it gonna sound like a lie and make her even more upset? Hmm, what do I honestly think? I take a deep breath before giving her a warm smile. Already, that seems to be enough to put her mind somewhat at ease. While it may be hopeful thinking on my own part, I do think it could be true.

"One day he'll be gone for good. I promise." She appears nervous to believe me, but after a moment, she finally smiles, and nods. After a bit more reading, we decide to head to bed. Setting our books in their separate piles, we turn off the room light and get into our beds. Once I'm sure she isn't looking at me, I clasp my hands together, and, quietly, whisper, "Please, god, whoever is listening-

please, kill my father."

...

There were the sounds of rushing footsteps. Phone call after phone call as my mother sat at the kitchen table, completely stunned. Me and Chloe, finishing getting ready for school for the day, ask her why she looks so out of it. Without a moment to hesitate, she answers.

"He's in the hospital."