Breaking free

It hurt to move. The world seemed to alternate between tilting and spinning every time she opened her swollen eyes.

Intense pain shot through Kat as she struggled to sit up straight against the rough-hewn wall. Some ribs were either badly bruised or broken. Both the little and ring fingers on the left hand were bent at wrong angles and she could feel steady streams of blood trickling from various cuts on her back. This time he had used the three tailed whip along with the usual beating, clearly taking his frustration out on her, cursing the customers for being cheap, and her mother for being useless.

He had gone too far. She had seen the recognition in his fleeting gaze as he cut her loose from the wall and hurried out. Leaving her in a crumbled heap on the floor. Just like he always did when his anger had subsided.

The only good thing about the pain was that it meant that she was still alive. Kat could still be useful to her family. She could only pray to the heavens that his mood would brighten. That he would go easier on her. If not… if she would fail and die during one of his “lessons” his attention would be focused on them again. Her mother was too old and her sisters too young. None of them would be able to take up her part. None of them could take the brunt of his frustration. Her father was a monster, and she had taken upon herself to be their shield.

Not that he saw her in that light. Kat doubted that he could see a girl in that role. And they both knew that she was just a thing to him. He had many wives and daughters at his fingertips. She and her sisters were just drops in the ocean. Merchandise for him to barter with.

One broken, or slightly damaged girl, was an acceptable loss. It was probably better for him this way. Before she planted herself firmly in his mind as his primary target, he had turned his anger equally on all of them. Any of his wives or daughters were in danger. Never the boy’s though, they were too precious.

Kat had known that and, when big enough, and willful enough, she put herself front and center. Goading him towards her every time he stormed into their living courters looking for someone to punish. It didn’t take much time for him to drag her down into the cellar. Into her own little torture chamber. She had lived there for 2 years now. Since she was 12 years old. Her mother came to visit periodically, mostly to bandage her up. Hardly ever to say anything, as he lingered in the doorway. Waiting for her mother to be done fixing some of his damage.

Ever since Kat was old enough to understand how the world worked, she had hated it. It was ugly and cruel. Ruled by men that saw women as property, valued only a step over animals.

The luckiest of women were born beautiful and got married to influential men who used them as status symbols. Others, a step below them in perfection could be taken as well-kept mistresses.

The unluckiest of them got sold as slaves, fed scraps and worked to death. The only common denominator for them all was the complete absence of choice.

Her mother was the one to inform her about the life of women. Preaching the virtue of serving. Being alert and always able to foresee the needs of others. Her grandmother, on the other hand, told her magical stories from a different time. It was a strange and wonderful world where women could roam free outside their homes. Allowed to shop, go to places called schools and live lives filled with things they themselves wanted. They never had to fear being sold off. Their lives were actually their own.

Sometimes, at night, Kat’s dreams reflected those stories and waking up was painful. Those stark differences almost too much to bear.

Her own reality was more like a horror story. It was like her father had put it when he dragged her two older sisters away to meet their new owners; women are nothing but prices and things to be sold and bought for the good of the family. That is the will of the heavens.

Sadly, Kat was a stubborn one. Her grandmother’s stories lived inside her, screaming that there should be a better way to live. A world outside this cage where she could matter. A world where she would have a voice without being silenced.

 At 14 she had never even been allowed to go outside. Never felt that fresh air her grandmother missed, and her mother wouldn’t talk about.

When she was five, Kat had sweetly asked her father about the outside world. If he would take her with him to see it. Only to be harshly shut down.

Women don’t need to go outside. They wouldn’t even enjoy it. Their brains are too small and basic to understand something as big as the outside world. Better to keep them safe from any complex thoughts. Maybe someday you will see it, if your owner thinks you will be worthy of it.

The heavens only knew how much she had grown to hate him. She had even told him so to his face, silently hoping that it would somehow get to him. The only response being a roaring laughter. He had gleefully laughed the first few times he beat her up, but with time his demeaner grew darker. Her stubbornness too great for him to break down. He didn’t understand the role she had chosen for herself. The love she gave to her family every time his fists turned on her instead of them. No matter how badly she got hurt.

Kat wearily rested her head back against the wall with her eyes closed.

It was funny to think back. How he used to spare her face and stomach. Ugly women fetched lesser prize than pretty ones, and women who couldn’t have offsprings were almost worthless. But soon he had accepted that she would never be sold, just serve as his punching bag for as long as she could take it.

Kat made the mistake of trying to make herself more comfortable against the wall, but the movement was too much. Overwhelming pain shot through her and the room around her faded to black.

The floor felt cold against her chin as Kat slowly opened her eyes.

Footsteps echoed along the corridor leading to her room. It was her father. She knew those footsteps by heart. So slow and heavy. His once tall and muscular body aging and getting thicker. Prospering off his family’s pain.

Hate swelled up and she found the power to sit back up. Trying not to look at the bloody print her body left on the floor.

It was so hard to see her father, that she used to love when she was young, as the monster that he was now. Although he had always been that monster on the inside. Just better at hiding it from trusting children. She had believed everything he said. That he only had their interests at heart. That he was protecting them.

Kat had almost believed that the beatings she got as a child had been because she was wicked, hurting the family and this was the only way to stop her.

At ten her eyes had really started to open. How he treated her mother, breaking her down into the shadow of the woman she remembered her being. That shadow floated around the home, eyes glued to the ground, stuck in a world full of pain and punishment. Too old to bear him more daughters, yet too young to be discarded.

Someday her mother might serve as a useful tool to keep the other women in line. Just like her grandmother had been before her. Beaten to death in front of everyone. Afterwards, as the men removed the body, her father had looked over the frightened, crying, group of woman and children and declared; remember your place in this world and you might not end up like that.

Her grandmother’s brutal death had been what finally broke her mother. Her eyes had grown dim. All hope gone.

It was also the final straw for Kat. The day the last bit of love for her father turned into hate. Red lightings had danced behind her eyelids and hateful words strained to be let free out into the world. But she didn’t let them. She had to support her mother.

Just thinking back called those lightnings forth. Her fingertips burning like they wanted to expel her hate. That darkly enjoyable sensation, a welcome relief from the pain. It was empowering. A feeling that was just her own. Something her father would never be able to touch or take away.

Kat wondered if any of her older sisters had felt like this. She could only remember two of them. The beautiful River with her infectious laughter, and the gentle Moreen. Twins, only three years older. They had been like a light in the darkness. Even their father had been more forgiving around them. Yet he had sold them off to a group of travelers looking for company on their long journey. He hadn’t even loved them enough to insure them statuses as wives. Only companions that would most likely be sold on when they weren’t needed any more.

In the end everything came down to money. The greatest love of his life. It was after they were dragged off that Kat had turned into the protector.

If I could break my family free. Then everything would have been worth it.

The footsteps finally reached her door, and a storm was raging inside of Kat. Red lightnings were sending their electricity through every cell in her body. Years of hate churning around, screaming for her to take her vengeance.

When the door was violently pushed up and her father strolled in, she glared up at his massive frame. His self-assured smile turning into a frown when Kat didn’t immediately bow down before him with her forehead touching the floor.

Before he could voice his disappointment, or force her down into submission, the whole room flashed a dark red color. Sparks flew from her fingertips hitting him straight in the chest. With a disbelieving yelp he sank down to his knees and disintegrated. It was like he had never been there at all.

Kat stared down at her hands in shock, red sparks still dancing around her fingers. Everything had happened so fast that she had barely been able to register the horror on his face. His brief pain nothing compared to what she wanted him to feel. Her fantasies of him dying over in mere seconds.

The hate was still flowing through her. Driving her forward. This wasn’t over yet. Her father, the monster, might be gone. But there were still more like him out there milling around the house. His servants, friends and possibly even some customers. They were all just as responsible and would notice his absence.

A wicked smile tugged at her lips. She would take them all down. And after cleansing their home of those monsters the women could start over. Race the babies right. With equality, just like in her grandmother’s stories.

What a beautiful dream.

Kat held one hand firmly against her bruised ribs and used the other to steady herself against the wall as she stood up. Fighting against a wave of nausea she took a few staggering steps, each one more confident than the last. This was what she had been waiting for. Her innermost dream was finally coming true. She could make a difference.

What happened next was a blur. Men came at her, some alone, others in groups and she blasted through all of them. Red lightnings dancing between the walls. With every kill she gained more control over that strange power. Instead of disintegrating her attackers she merely shot small holes through their chests or heads.

She climbed higher up, from the cells in the basement up to the living area where the women tried to shelter the children from the chaos. Their worried faces quietly cheered her on as she continued from room to room searching for a way out.

A fresh breeze startled her. This was yet another new sensation. Kat followed the breeze carefully through a tight hallway, up three smooth wooden steps to an iron door. The door didn’t quite fit in place, the breeze flowing in from underneath it.

Carefully she extended her hand and pushed it open.

Kat couldn’t believe her eyes. The whole world seemed to open up in front of her. Up above her head she saw thousands of twinkling lights adorning the black… ceiling? No that had to be the sky. Her grandmother had described it to her. At nighttime it would be filled with lights, stars, and in the daytime, there would be a glorious ball of fire. The sun. Spreading warmth and joy.

Squeals of joy startled her, and Kat quickly dove back into the comfort of her home. From the shadows she saw a group of teenagers walking by, some holding hands, others bumping each other on the shoulders. It was a mix of girls and boys. A complete contradiction to how she had been raised. A scene straight out of her grandmother’s stories. Those girls seemed to be free to laugh and joke around. None of the boys trying to punish them or holding them back. They were treating them as equals.

Shocked, she slowly walked back out, following that curious group as quietly as she could.

Kat stopped dead in her tracks as she walked out into a clearing. In front of her a huge town spread out. Covered in lights, filled with people of all ages walking freely.

How can this be?

Her hate abruptly gave into exhaustion and Kat slowly sank to the ground. She was finally free but what now?