Chapter fifty

She left the moment she said that, and I was thrown into a state of both depression and confusion.
Nancy? Dead? I had held the tears for too long, I let it go.
It seemed like it was my mother or sister, I didn't realize that I had a soft spot for anyone. Not someone who I had met in a gang.
Hot tears flowed down my cheeks, I stared blankly away.
I had made a promise to Nancy. To kill my father, no matter what happened.
Although I was beginning to understand the reason for his actions, my hands were tied.
I sat on the bare ground, crying until it was well past midnight.
Fuck adulthood.
My childhood was not any better but at least I stayed with my father and I did as he wanted. My best friend wasn't ill, I didn't have to steal to survive, neither did I have to be locked up in a room and monitored like some character in a video game.
My head was pounding badly, I was tired of crying.
"Nancy, I'm sorry you had to end like this." I was speaking to the air but deep down, I knew she could hear me. "I know this revenge meant the whole world to you, so I would go ahead and avenge your death. It's not just an avenge mission, it's also a revenge." I sighed, and rubbed my forehead with my fingers. "I will kill Pedro no matter what happens."
I had affirmed it again to her. My father was being coaxed into his actions, but what could I do?
A promise was a promise. One that was made to a person who sacrificed her life for a total stranger, just to see him dead.
Would I blame her bitterness?
Even though she was raped once and I multiple times. I couldn't blame her bitterness.
All the weeks I knew Nancy, I knew something bothered her. I just didn't know what it was. I tried getting her to open up to me, but she was always on the listening end.
Eventually, she made me speak instead of listening.
Except to encourage me to keep pushing, not once did she volunteer information about herself.
It did hurt me, and thoughts of it creeped me out, but my father had destroyed the lives of many young persons like myself.
He may not have done it intentionally, but he didn't deserve to keep living. He didn't deserve to keep waking up.
He was a monster.
Slowly, I reminisced on the many times he tore my clothings, the fake smile he gave the world to cover up his actions, the first day I could vividly recall having an affair with him.
Thoughts of it still irks me.
He had walked in that day, with fresh flowers and a pack of candy. I was something within the age of three and five.
His arms were opened wide for a hug, and I jumped in for an embrace. He scooped me up in his arms and placed my little head on his shoulder.
I lay calmly, playing with his long hair.
He lowered me to his laps, and gave me a peg on my forehead. That was nothing strange. But when he gave me a long kiss on my lips, one that I now understand was a hot kiss, I knew something was wrong.
He began to caress my body, and I didn't like any of it. He didn't care if I did.
I may not remember everything that happened that day detail by detail, but I know it was against my will. He had tore my little dress and he hurt me so much, I was unable to stand straight or walk without crying.
"Don't worry Cammie, this is normal for fathers and their daughters." I believed my superhero. My love for him wasn't wounded, everything he told me was true.
But when I had found out he was lying to me all along, I was hurt. I did a lot of research and found out that it was true, my father had raped me multiple times. That was in middle school.
His instruction was still the same, I wasn't allowed to date. I wasn't eager to date.
A few guys approached me for a relationship, and for a night stand affair, but I considered all of them liars and cheating folks.
And then I had finished highschool. As the only girl who showed up for prom with no man.
That didn't hurt as much as the emotional and psychology trauma my father had put me through.
Now an adult, all I asked for was my freedom. Even if his hands were tied, why didn't he act like it was?
The pleasant grin on his face and the lustful stare he used to give me made it even harder to forgive him.
I heaved in exhaustion, it was almost five hours, and I had been in the same position, gazing away at the empty space.
It wasn't a complete waste of time, it birthed an idea.
No matter how extraordinary Sandra was, she was not always staring at her computers.
She was probably asleep right now.
It was impossible for her to keep her eyes at me, and at the entire city at once.
I was beginning to think of a way out. All I had to do was target the times when she was engaged with something else.
Or even better, intentionally get her busy with something else.
And I knew who was perfect for the job of distracting her.
If the plan was going to work out, I needed to sleep.
So that i would be in the best frame of mind by tomorrow.
I stood from the bare ground and headed to the bed. It took a long time before I drifted into a sleep that didn't last long.
I was certain that tomorrow, I was going to leave this place no matter what happened.