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13 Years Ago

I sat in my room listening to listen to the loud voices downstairs. This is quite common in our crappy double story house which we were on the verge of losing.

But it's not like I'm not used to this behavior. Having a dead beat dad kinda comes with the package. Dangerous people come here all because my dad won't keep his word and actually pay them back.

See my father had a gambling problem, but that's not the best part! He drinks and smokes too. Which I was told in school is bad for you but he does it anyway.

About a year ago I found him passed out on the couch but it seemed like he wasn't moving.

I moved closer to get a better inspection of what was going on to see that he wasn't breathing. As paniced as a four year old could get I quickly called the emergency services and they took me and my dad to the hospital.

After hours of sitting, pacing and occasional mental break downs in the waiting room, a kind nurse offered to get me some food from the cafeteria.

That was the first time I've felt somebody care about me since my mom. After a quick lunch and idle conversation we returned to the waiting room to see a doctor waiting for me.

I quickly ran up to him and started bawling begging if I could see my dad. He may be the worst but he was the only parent I had left.

They lead me to his room where I sat in a chair while the doctor briefed him of his illness.

One of his kidneys had stopped working because of excessive amounts of alcohol intake and the smoking didn't help either. They told him they scheduled a surgery for later that evening to have it removed.

Once the doctor was gone he got out of bed and went into the bathroom. When he came out he had changed into his clothes. He grabbed my hand and lead me out of the hospital. I was very confused as why we were leaving because he had to have surgery but he said it was way too expensive.

I asked him whether he was going to be okay and he said yes. After a few days we packed our stuff and moved. He was always groaning about a pain in his side and I knew he wasn't okay. After we arrived at our current house he took the luggage off the car, left some money and disappeared for two weeks.

I was so worried sick that he might have gotten himself into trouble and I would be parent less but came stumbling through the door with a bandage around his stomach region.

He had gotten the kidney removed at some shady 'doctor' who offered to do it for a cheap price. For weeks that wound bleed a lot and since he needed help cleaning the wound and dressing it since he was in too much pain.

The scar is still there towards this day, a very ugly looking scar like the doctor didn't care how he'd look after the surgery.

He was just looking to score some cash and dad well... He needed the cheapest way to fix his problem.

If mom was there should could have talked some sense into him about getting things as important as saving his life done by a professional.

My mom used to be my light and my hope in this miserable place but even he took her away from him when an argument got too heated one night. There were a few shoves, punches, then a sudden bright glint in the moonlight.

He was too quick and dad was too late, the porch drenched in crimson, from my mother's blood as she bled out on the floor. I, a two year old with no understanding of the world witnessed my mother die in front of my eyes and the image still haunts me to this day.

In my little two year old heart I hoped that this experience would bring us closer but it just drove a wedge further between us. Most of the men would settle on taking a few of our furniture as payment which my father would get back by stealing from another person but this particular person sounded quite determined to get what he wanted.

"LUCINDA!!!" my father yelled from downstairs. Without wanting to agitate him futher I quickly scurried from my room and made my way downstairs.

I saw the man who had came to collect his debt staring at me which made me feel unsettled so I stood next to my father for some form of comfort.

"This is my daughter, Lucinda" he introduced.

"What makes her so special? She doesn't even look older than 7" the man said.

"I'm this many years old" I said while holding up five fingers.

My father chuckled next to me and squeezed my shoulder. One of the signs he taught me is that whenever he does that I should shut up.

"Well Lucy here learned a lot from a young age. After we lost her mother she learned how to cook, clean, do laundry and all household chores" he said with a prize winning smile.

I looked at his face with worry etched across my face. Something about this didn't feel right. So against my better judgment I disobey his rule.

"Your lying..." I said in my little five year old voice. "I'm only 5, where would I have learned all those things?" I asked. The question only earned me a glare from my father.

"She's feisty" said the strange man.

"Thanks! My mom used to say I'm naturally vicious... Whatever that means" I said with a proud smile.

My father only dug his hand further into my shoulder making me squirm.

The man seemed like he was thinking about something before he finally spoke.

"Okay. I'll take her." he said.

"Take me where?" I asked in curiosity and fear.

With a sinister smile he reached into his pocket.

"Oh you'll find out very soon" he said before jabbing me in the arm with something sharp and I squealed before passing out into complete nothingness.

A few hours later a woke up in a room on the floor with my head spinning.

"Where am I?" I asked in a droopy voice, still feeling the aftereffects of the drugs. The man from earlier approached me but I was too weak to move.

"Welcome my dear... To Hell".