Aine hurried back to her hut, and closed the door quietly behind her, trying to muffle her haggard breathing. She didn't notice her father until she turned around to come face to face to him, his nose practically touching hers. "WHERE WERE YOU!" he screamed in her face, spittle spraying. She didn't answer, barely supressing the whimper that was rising up in her throat. His breath smelled of stale whiskey. "Stuffing your face, no doubt!" he shouted, grabbing her with one mammoth hand by the collar and tossing her into the corner. "And what, no food for your old man?" Aine scuffled as far as she could away from him. "You know what this means, don't you?" he hollered at her. Her eyes grew wide, but she turned around, hunched down on the ground and lifted her shirt over her head. She knew better than to run; that would just make him angry. "Five lashes..." Aine's father muttered under his breath, untying his belt from around his waist. Aine waited for the first strike, and was rewarded with sharp, stinging pain, and fought to keep her breath in check. Again, and again it swung, but she did not cry out till the last. "Weak," her father grumbled disapprovingly, relooping his belt. "Just like that woman." And he left Aine huddled there in the corner, the blood dripping in streams down her back.
{That was a long one O_O}




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