Chapter 2

Just as he unbuckled his belt, the doorbell rang. 

He stopped moving, and stood completely still, listening to hear if the person would ring again. 

After a minute of silence, he proceeded trying to forcefully sleep with me again, but then the door bell rang again, this time, more insistently. 

I continued crying on the floor, pinned by him, but this time, they were tears for gratuity. The heavens had heard my plea, and I was willing to go out there, and thank whosoever it was who interrupted this terrible ordeal, on my knees. 

He turned back to me, worry mixed with a slight fear in his beady, dark eyes. 

"Get the fuck up, and go upstairs, bitch. And make sure not to come downstairs until you hear the front door close. If you do, so as much, appear to the person at the door, I will make sure you regret it. Now carry these bottles, and fuck off." He commanded me, his voice low, yet still very threatening to my ears. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, I quickly pick the bottles from the floor, and race up the stairs as fast as I could. My muscles protested terribly; the bruises from yesterday, combined with the fresh ones I just received made moving very hard for me. 

But I wasn't going to let that stop me. 

I moved as fast as I could, until I got to my room and closed the door behind me, leaning on it. 

Tears streamed down my face, as I heard the front door open. I wanted to tune out the whole world, curl up in my bed, and cry the whole night, until the first light of the day time shone upon the city. 

But something made me stop at my tracks. 

"You must be Jeyla's step father, am I correct?" I heard the voice of a woman say downstairs. 

The front door was just below my window, so I could clearly hear everything said. 

"Yes, yes, that would be me. How may I help you?" He said, with a very fake friendly voice that made me feel like screaming in pain and frustration. 

How dare he pretend to be a good person after what he had just tried doing to me? How dare he pretend to be nice?

"Well, I'm your dear late wife Jisoo's good friend. My name is Mrs Tara Lawson. May I come in?" She said, her voice cheerful. 

Her name sounded very familiar to me, as if I knew her from somewhere. 

My curiosity grew by each second, and I decided that the best option at the moment, in order to satisfy my nagging thoughts, was to go downstairs, and try to peep to see if I could catch at least a glimpse of this woman. 

Something told me that maybe then, I would recognize the lady. 

I opened the door to my room very slowly, like a thief creeping into a house at night, trying my best not to alert my step father who now sat in the living room with the woman. 

I went down the stairs, holding the rain, and straining myself to stay on my tip toes, not minding the terrible protests of my beaten up body. 

"...yes, yes, she went out with her friends just moments ago. You missed her by seconds. Maybe next time you come by, yes?"  I could hear him say from where I stood, on the fourth to the last step of our staircase. 

The extreme and impending urge to just burst in there, and scream that I was in the house, and that I didn't have friends, talk less of go out was really strong, but then again; I knew better than to jeopardize my life. 

"Oh that's wonderful. The fact that she has friends and she socializes. She used to be such a sweet yet shy child, I was nearly worried that she wouldn't be able to cope after we moved away and her mother died. Please extend my regards to your wonderful daughter." 

I couldn't remember the last time someone spoke of me in such a kind, and motherly way. My eyes stung with more tears, ready to be shed behind my eyes. 

I had to know who this woman was, or else I wouldn't rest. 

I continued my way down the stairs silently, trying my best not to make any noise whatsoever. Finally I had gotten to the final step. I hooked my fingers to the side of the door frame, and tilted my body to the side, while leaning on the wall. That way, I wouldn't have any shadow to give the fact that I was standing there away, and I minimized their ability to see me if I peeped. 

Cocking my head to the side, I remained cautious, even though I knew that my step father would be sitting on his usual arm chair. The person I was trying to evade, was the woman. I had a feeling that if she saw me, she was most likely to call me out, and that would certainly spell disaster. 

As I caught the side view of her face, my breath caught in my throat. 

Aunt Tara! 

I loved this woman as a child, with everything in me. She was like a second mother to me. She lived next door together with her husband and two kids; Melvin and Simon. We were practically the three musketeers; unseperable. 

After her husband's business became really successful, they had moved to San Francisco, and from there on, I never saw any of them again. 

I was just ten by then, and few years after that, mom had died. 

A crippling sadness mixed with excitement crept it's way into my senses. I wanted to go in there, and jump on her so bad, probably cry on her shoulder for a while, because I genuinely needed it. 

"I surely will Mrs Lawson." He replied, his voice suddenly terribly cold. 

"Now, back to the reason why I'm here. You see, I want your daughter's hand in marriage."

A sudden wave of shock hit me. My hand in marriage? But... But I didn't see her that way...

"Excuse me?" My step father exclaimed, clearly as surprised as I was. 

"No, no, please don't get me wrong. Not for me, but for my son."

What???