Fighting For Hope

HOPE'S POV

I hear my parents screaming.

My parents were unaware of the young child watching them from above.

In that frozen second, I recalled my mother informing me the day before about a split between her and father. Dad will be gone soon.

She told me I would have a new father. He's standing behind my parents, watching them fight as if it was a movie.

He had a smile that screamed bad intentions. I hate and execrate him from the very beginning.

Dad had always told me that nothing will hurt him because he is strong. However, in the current moment, he looks so impossibly broken and fragmented. I can see the pain reflecting in his eyes. It is obvious that the mental wound was incredibly deep and had taken a large toll on him.

My mom, who I always described as stunning with her beaming smile and white casual shirt, now seemed as if she was trying hard to appear murderous. She clasped onto something behind her back, hiding it from father's sight. She tightened her hold on the object while she gave a side glance to her new partner.

Young and ignorant, I stay rooted to the ground even after I realized what she was clutching on to.

Everything seemed to go so rapidly from then on. My mom plunged the knife forward, but my dad was quick enough to move out of the way and thrust her hand away, causing the knife to fly towards my 'new father' in the living room.

He did not flinch when the knife got close. Instead, he reaches out and grabs it perfectly on the handle. As if he is a trained professional.

He narrowed his eyes at Mother, who was holding dad back from bolting out of her grasp and the door.

Without hesitation or delay of any kind, he held out the knife for her. In my confused state of mind, I convinced myself that they will not do anything. They had no reason to.

She took it from his hands and contemplated for a quick duration. A flash of remorse flashed in her gaze before she covered it up and forced the weapon down. Fortunately, my father had rolled out of the way on time.

He swiftly got on his feet and dart towards the unopened door.

Soon enough, he discovered that he has one more obstacle.

The man I utterly disliked stood between my father and his way out. I know for a fact that I will never want to trade my father for anyone else. Especially that despicable man.

He clenches his fists and land a punch square in my father's jaw. He did not end there. Right after that punch, a second blow came for my father's abdomen. Although my father is a robust man, I wish he was tougher.

He stumbled back, quickly recovering his composure. He reacted to his opponent's fast punch by moving to the side, speedily holding on to his hand and elbow his opponent right on the ribs.

I prayed for his safety. One wrong move and he would be helpless with a physical stab wound.

While my father was focused on his opponent's fists for any unexpected movements, his rival caught the side of his foot and caused him to be swept off his feet. A glint of triumph lit the man's gaze as he looked down at my father, who was unable to climb back up to his feet due to his old age.

The man who caused my father to be struggling on the floor gave my mother, a former spectator throughout their fight, a brief nod.

My mother was one who would always come home late at night and never acknowledge me or dad unless she feels like it. I was told that I was to love my parents equally. Yet in my eyes, father was the only one who cared. I do adore her though, for she would always be my beautiful mother. But her next move was nothing I ever imagined would come from her.

She let out a strangled cry, gripping the knife in her hands. In approximately three seconds, she launched towards my father while raising the sharp object. She then brought it down with force.

I bit back a gasp when I heard my dad let out a painfully loud cry. I caught a glimpse of the blood, which splattered from somewhere around his stomach. It tainted the marble floor with a dark shade of red.

Flinching, I look away and spot a somewhat hidden object with a red light flashing on the very top of it.

A voice caused my attention to be shifted to the scene where I could previously only see mom's back. I was oblivious to what had happened until she moved out of the way. I felt as if someone had stolen all the light in my life.

I was urging myself to stop watching the scene, move away and call the police. I felt suffocated looking at my dad fighting the pain. Mom removed the knife, frantically throwing it to the side of the room and looking horrified at her trembling hands of crimson liquid.

"I'll call two of my guys to get rid of the body and evidence later on," the man notified my mother. From then on, I remembered his voice by heart.

They left the room, probably to take a breath outside. I hurried down the flight of stairs and dropped to my knees beside my father, staining my bright blue dress with his blood.

"Hope..." He managed to choke out, his voice was nothing more compared to a mere whisper. "Nothing happened, dad just slipped."

He thinks I'm too young to understand what happened. He was wrong.

"I saw it all, mom did this." I held back a sob. "Why?"

He covered my hands in his, warmth surging up from my hands and calming me slightly. I will never forget how he held me, or the look on his face when he glanced up at me.

"Because she wants to, and I can't change that." He shook his head in a disapproving manner. "I wished that I didn't trust her so much." He forced a smile through the overwhelming pain while grabbing on to my hand.

I could not stop myself from breaking down. He blamed himself although he knew that it was not his fault.

"Don't trust anyone but yourself, Angel." His eyes flickered to the ground. "Or you will get hurt."

"Once you trust, you can't go back."

"No," I whispered. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me..."

Tears pooled in my eyes as his heart thumped for the last time and he slips away into a sleep he will never awaken from. Looking into his lifeless and opened eyes, my thoughts drifted to my mother and the man she is with.

They betrayed both me and my father, and I swore to parry with my vengeance.