“Bella, this is getting too much for you. Why don’t we …”

“I can’t stop now; I have to tell you while I have the courage. Besides, I’m not coming back; like I said, this is my only chance … I can remember my breathing was slowing, but I wasn’t giving up. I would see it thought to the end. She relieved her weight off of me and shifted to find another vodka bottle. Life was giving me so many chances to escapes, but fear and death bet it to it. When she saw I was trying to get up, to get out of my own blood, I felt her short bony hands wrap themselves tightly around my throat, gripping fiercely. As her grasp became more secure, she jerked me up and whacked me against the wall. I screamed against her hand as my new wound hit the cold wall, leaving behind a red smear. I recall started to get sleepy, my vision blurring. I was about to fall under, into the darkness but the door burst open and I could just about make out tall men, in dark blue uniforms, holding shields and guns. “Put the girl down, or we will shoot.” I knew that these men had come to help me, but I wasn’t the only one who planned to go down without a fight. Her grip loosened and I could feel my lungs inflating again. “And what if I don’t? You wouldn’t really shoot a poor, innocent little girl, now would you officer?” I could see the tallest man, the one who had commanded I was let go, started to slowly walk towards us. “Ah ah ah, back you go. You wouldn’t want her to get hurt because of you now, would you?” Before I had a chance to take in her words, I was pulled against her chest, my head forced to rest on her shoulder as she placed the familiar carving knife’s tip against my chin, hot blood trickling down the trail of the knife as she ran it down my neck and back up to my cheek. The last thing I remember was a noise from behind us and hitting my head on a table’s corner. I woke up 2 weeks later in hospital. I had been in a minor comma; I had hit my head pretty bad and what with the trauma of that night, the doctor told my family I needed some time to myself; that I was having a break. But when I did wake up, I saw balloons and flowers, cards and teddies. Everyone was there, the people I had protected. But my memories came back and I started to thrashing around in my bed, screaming for someone to help me, crying uncontrollable. Doctors were at my side 24/7 after that, in case I have another occurrence. I got to go home a week or so later, after I had been stitched up, mended and put in several casts. Of course, I had to testify against her. The police that witnessed the attack also testified. She pleaded guilty to first-degree assault, falsifying physical evidence and countless counts of endangering the welfare of a minor. The judge gave her 30 years for wilfully torturing, maliciously punishing, and wilfully abusing a child thereby causing great bodily harm, causing great bodily harm or permanent disfigurement and 15 years for the second charge, tampering with evidence.” I took time to breathe, but yet, the worst was to come.