Before I even got to the clearing where our house was, I could hear my mother screaming from inside. I stopped while I was still covered by the trees and crouched behind to a bush, trying to swallow the overwhelming fear that gripped me. Mom needed me. I had to figure out a way to help her.

I peered around the bush and saw a couple of horses waiting in our open yard, but I didn't see any people. The screams that echoed out the open front door told me that they were probably inside. I crept forward, trying to be as quiet as possible, but there was no cover to hide my movements. As soon as I was close enough to see inside the door, someone grabbed me from behind and pushed me inside.

“Well, look at what I found skulking about,” my captor called out, “I’ve got the kid. We don’t need this bitch to talk no more.”

Inside the house, I could see my mother, her wrists bound behind her back, bent over the table where we usually ate. A skinny man with black hair was pressing her face into the table with violent force. His pants were down around his knees and he paused his rough thrusting for a moment to look at us. 

"Come on! We only just got started," the man protested, "can't we have some more fun with her before we leave?"

"Hah, I didn't say the fun was over, did I? I just said she doesn’t need to talk." My captor twisted my arm painfully behind my back and forced me to move forward toward the table as he said, "We’ve got all night boys. Let's show this little bastard what happens to whores who run away."

The black-haired man continued his assault with renewed vigor. He grabbed my mother by the hair and forcefully lifted her head so she could see me, before smashing it back down on the table, laughing merrily as he did so. The look in his eyes was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen.

In violation of my will, my body went limp from the shock and horror. I wanted to fight them. I wanted to bite my captor's hand and stop these evil bastards, but all I could do was watch helplessly as my mother cried and begged for mercy. The sun had risen again before they were finished with her.

There were five men in all, and they took turns beating and raping her through the night. I was forced to watch the whole thing, held in place to make sure I didn't miss a single moment. 

One of them amused himself by giving me a play-by-play of what they were doing every time I tried to close my eyes or look away. He gleefully described their awful violence, telling me how much she secretly enjoyed it and that she was getting what she deserved. 

The black haired man seemed determined to harass me in other ways, fondling me through my pants and licking my ear. He probably would have done worse to me if the others hadn't stopped him. They told him I was the Duke's property and not to be used. He took his disappointment out on my mother, watching me with lustful eyes the entire time.

Early into the night, I learned that my poor, commoner mother had once been a servant to the Duke of Ramport, the southern Duchy of Vrayna. My mother's beauty had attracted the Duke's attention, so he’d imprisoned her and forced himself upon her almost every night for a full moon cycle, eventually resulting in a child: me. After I was born, she somehow found a way to flee the duchy and disappeared. 

The duke's wife had borne him a single daughter, and after a difficult childbirth, she was left barren and without hope of ever giving him a son. Breeding my mother had been his solution to that problem. Even if he adored his little girl, an illegitimate son was still more useful than a daughter. 

So he searched for my mother for years, and finally found her by chance, thanks to information from a traveling merchant who had passed through our town. He sent his men to find me and told them to dispose of her in whatever way they pleased. 

The morning sun was already shining brightly in the sky when they slit my mother's throat and left her broken body for the animals. 

At some point during that long night, what they were forcing me to watch became too much for me. The violence, the pain, and the sorrow were all too much for me. I prayed, begging the Gods for mercy, but no mercy was granted. The horror in front of me continued.

With nowhere else to turn, I retreated inward, desperate to escape from the unending nightmare. I willed myself to be anywhere but where I was. 

And then it was like a switch flipped in my brain. The part of me that was present in that moment went away. I felt myself drifting and came back to awareness inside of a thick, gray fog. A place where there was nothing at all. I couldn't hear the screams. I couldn't see the violence. I wasn't there anymore.

After they threw my mother away, I was vaguely aware of them binding my wrists behind my back and tossing me into a wagon. I think one of them poured cold water on me, hoping to get a reaction, but I was too far gone to care.