Smack.

Trina went down, a drop of blood appearing where her father’s ring had hit her cheek.

“You get off her!” her mother yelled, struggling to her feet and launching herself upon her husband, kicking him in the shins repeatedly.

Smack.

Her head snapped back from the blow.

Trina was recovering, sitting up against the wall. She pulled herself up using the bedframe, then tried walking a couple of tentative steps.

It was good; she could walk.

She stared around, the sound of her father’s shouts ebbing, her ears ringing.

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Now, it was Trina’s turn. Moments before, it had been a few selectively harsh words she’d thrown at her father that had resulted in the blow she’d sustained, but now she focused on something different.

She focused on attack.

She rose up into the air; her one magical ability that dwarfed all others came easily to her, and she hovered over the scene.

Her father stared, surprised. But then, his scowl returned.

For nothing longer than an instant, Trina wished she could be as fearless as he was. She gritted her teeth and propelled herself forward, kicking him on the side of the head.

This time it was he who hit the ground.

She turned to her mother, offering her hand.

But her mother just stared, alarmed. Afraid.

Trina’s heart broke as she realized she would not be coming with her tonight. Maybe not ever.

She withdrew her hand and flew to the doorway, to her solitary escape. And as she wondered where she might sleep that night, she knew one thing for sure, something terrible.

Come dawn, she would return to her mother’s bruises and her father’s apologies.

But not now. Not tonight.

Tonight, she flew away into the darkness, leaving her mother and that most wicked man behind.

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