~Chapter 83~
KATYA POV
Darkness began flooding, my mind fragnting under the weight of all my trauma, Of all I had been through and all I’m still going through at this mansion.
Did this fucking pig of a man just spit the words "Ungrateful" to ? – the word sparked sothing within and fire blazed to life in my chest, burning deep and coursing quickly through my veins like liquid rage.
How dare he say that? He, who had brought nothing but pain and suffering into my life, a relentless storm that had ravaged my childhood and left scars that still lingered.
He, who had taken and taken, without ever giving, a void in my life that seed impossible to fill.
Where was he when I needed a father, not an abuser? Not soone who always punches instead of hugging like a normal parent would do, the mory of his brutal touch seared into my skin like a brand.
"Ungrateful?" I spat the word back at him, my tone venomous, each syllable laced with hatred.
The look on my father’s face was to die for, he looked taken aback from my outburst.
Ohh, did he think I couldn’t stand up for myself, he’s so damn wrong because fuck him.
"You think I’m ungrateful? You’ve done nothing for , nothing but hurt , nothing but make my life a living hell," my words were harsh, each one a blow aid straight at his twisted heart.
His demonic grin flattered, and for a mont, I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes but I didn’t give him a chance to recover.
Taking a took a deep breath, my voice growing stronger, more evil as I unleashed the fury that had been building inside .
"You’ve taken everything from , everything that ever mattered – my innocence, my childhood, my sense of security. You’ve left with nothing but scars and nightmares, a legacy of pain that I’ll carry with forever. And you dare to say I’m ungrateful?" I kept going, my voice growing stronger with each word.
The words were a slap in his face, a brutal awakening to the reality of his own depravity. Locking my eyes onto his, I felt so much hatred instead of fear, hatred that had been locked up within like a beast unleashed, because I was still scared of this bastard but no more.
I was done being held captive by my own terror. The room seed shake with my anger, the air thickening with physical tension literally.
My sperm donor’s face began to distort further, his features lting away like wax in a furnace, his eyes bulging with a mixture of rage and fear.
But I didn’t back down. I kept fighting, my words pouring out. "You fucking, fucking piece of shit!"
"You don’t get to say anything about who’s ungrateful when you have never given sothing to be grateful for!" The words were a battle cry, a declaration of war against the monster who had haunted for so long.
The room beca so huge, the walls stretching out, and all of a sudden my father began to shrink in size, his form dwindling to insignificance as I beca so big, so powerful, that I felt like a giant towering over the wreckage of my own past.
Shocking the hell out of from how things were changing, I felt a sense of exhilaration, of liberation
This can’t be real "how" the words left my lips in a whisper as I towered over my father, who looked up at with so much disgust on his disgusting face.
The irony was not lost on tho, the monster who had terrorized for so long was now cowering beneath , a pathetic figure reduced to nothing but a shadow of his forr self.
"You think you can now talk back at , you slut!" He shouted stepping closer, his eyes blazing with fury.
He looked like a child demanding for candies but he wasn’t a child he was my abuser so I kicked him so hard.
My foot connecting with his stomach with a sickening thud, and he flew across the room, his body crashing into the window.
Breaking the glass over there and that brought back to my senses of what I had just done.
No, I hurriedly ran over to him to check if he was alright, my heart racing with both fear and adrenaline, but on reaching there I saw his head split with a large glass shard lodged in between.
Blood! Blood instantly filled everywhere, spreading and slipping out from his cracked head and onto the floor, the bed, and everything.
I fell onto my knees on seeing his state, I an..i..I didn’t an to kick him, I...I didn’t an to kill him – the thought echoed through my mind.
But I desperately denied the fact that I unleashed so much anger and I had just killed soone. Killer. No...no...leave alone – these words ca in full force.
Killer.. murder, You just like your father, but worse you killed him. No! I didn’t an it. It’s not real. I’m not a killer – the denials poured out of like a flood, but they were drowned out by the sound of my own ragged breathing.
"He was already dead. This isn’t real!" I was screaming at this point, my voice growing more frantic, more desperate, as I tried to convince myself that this was just a nightmare, a terrible dream from which I would soon awaken.
But the voice kept increasing, I didn’t an to, please, please, please, sobody help! Sobody help, he’s dying, I didn’t an to – the words tumbled out.
Black spots started tainting my vision, tears flooding my cheeks like a dam had burst, and before I knew it, th room began to spin.
"Oh Lord of heaven" – a loud, female voice called out, the words a distant echo that faded into the darkness as I lost consciousness.
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