Kidnapped with My Mom【3】

Dinner time. Mom was, as expected, nowhere to be seen. Dad mentioned between bites that he still had to head back to the office for work.

I shoveled the food down as fast as I could, then bolted to my room. Hands shaking, I locked the door, killed the lights, and curled up under the covers, trembling.

As the minutes dragged on, the unknown dread filled every corner of my chest until it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was so scared I wanted to throw up.

Eventually the fear dragged me under and I passed out.

Suddenly the covers were ripped away. Cold air hit my entire body. I jerked awake and saw Mom’s bloodshot eyes and that hard, furious face looming over me. Terror spiked through me. I clutched at the blanket, shaking all over.

“M-Mom… I’m sorry…”

“I’m your mother. Why the fuck did you rape me?”

She scrambled onto the bed fast, rage pouring off her. Her fist came around in a wide arc and crashed into me, blow after blow raining down without mercy. I curled into a tight ball, panic choking me.

Guilt, self-loathing, pure terror crashed over me in waves. Tears and snot poured down my face at once.

“Ah—Mom… please stop hitting me… I was wrong… I won’t ever do it again…”

I kept begging, voice cracking.

Mom grabbed my collar and arm and hauled me clean off the bed. I hit the floor hard; my elbows and knees went numb with sharp, blinding pain. Then the real beating started—fists and feet slamming into me in a blind fury. I couldn’t stop crying out.

By the time she was done I was covered in bruises, purple and black already blooming under the skin. Mom was breathing hard, chest heaving. She dragged a chair over, planted it in front of me, and sat down.

“Kneel.”

Her face was dark, cold.

I forced myself up through the pain and dropped to my knees in front of her, head hanging, whole body still shaking.

She seized me by the hair and cracked her open palm across my face.

*Slap.*

Then again. *Slap. Slap.* Two more. Three.

Every swing started high and came down with full force. Stars exploded behind my eyes. My face swelled fast; the inside of my mouth flooded with the thick, metallic taste of blood.

She only hit harder. My vision started to blur. Is she going to beat me to death?

Terror clawed up my throat. I wrapped both arms around my head, trying to shield myself, and screamed through the blood in my mouth.

“Mom, stop! The video—I’ve still got the video from the day we were kidnapped. You hit me one more time and I’m sending it straight to Dad.”

Her hand froze in mid-air. The rage on her face shattered into pure shock.

Her lips trembled. Voice tight, almost panicked. “What video? I destroyed the camera and the memory card. Both of them.”

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and spat a mouthful of red onto the floor. Looking straight at her I said, “I backed it up, Mom. It’s on my cloud drive. I’ll show you.”

While she stared at me in stunned silence I fumbled my phone out, opened the cloud, and hit play.

She only watched the first few seconds before snatching the phone out of my hand and stabbing at the delete button over and over.

But deleting required a password.

Mom jabbed a finger at my face, shaking with fresh fury. “Type the fucking password and delete it right now or I swear to God I’ll kill you.”

I shook my head and spat another thick string of blood. “You hit me so hard just now I thought you were actually going to kill me. My head’s scrambled. I can’t remember the password.”

“You…” Mom was trembling so hard she couldn’t even finish the sentence.

I pushed myself up slowly, limped over to the bed, sat, then lay down.

Everything hurt. Every inch of me throbbed, but my head was the worst—spinning, foggy, full of static.

Mom made one huge mistake—she beat me so savagely that I had no choice but to spill the secret about the video just to stay alive. Truth is, I never planned to use it against her. But with death staring me in the face, the words just tore out of me before I could stop them.

For a long while the room stayed dead quiet. Mom was too unsettled, scr