My Abusive Father Will Regret Underestimating Me

The sound of the police sirens went off, and it was only then that my father knelt down, begging for my forgiveness.

Heh, I just whispered in his ear, “Silas, go enjoy a sweet time at the police station with your Lena.”

As they hauled him away, he still had the nerve to point at me and call me a lunatic.

I smiled. After all, he didn’t know that my mother’s body was being occupied by his daughter—Clara.

“Dead woman, get the hell up.” The man beside me grabbed my hair violently and yanked me upwards with all his strength, spitting out filthy words. “You filthy slut, last night when I asked you to serve me, you refused. Watch me beat you to death.”

The sudden motion left me no time to react.

The sharp pain from my scalp made me suck in a sharp breath, and tears streamed down uncontrollably.

It wasn’t because of the pain, but because I thought about how my mom had been living like this every day for the past years. It was unbearable.

“Get the hell out of here, you cursed bitch! Don’t just stand there and annoy me,” he growled, yanking me off the bed.

The hard floor sent a jolt of pain through my body.

I sat on the ground, hugging my knees, crying softly. The calendar on the wall flashed in my mind—2002, the year my mom died. It hit me all at once: I had somehow crossed over into my mom’s body, the one who died two years ago. And the man lying beside me, covered in a thick beard, was none other than my abusive father—Silas Cross, the man who killed my mom.

A strange sense of relief washed over me. Finally, I had the chance to use my memories to bring this abusive bastard down. But for now, the most important thing was not to let him discover that my mother’s identity had changed. So, whatever he did, I had to endure. His fate was now in my hands.

After a long silence, Silas jumped off the bed, grabbed a clothes hanger from the closet, and raised it to strike me.

As the hanger came down, I swiftly turned my body, narrowly dodging his attack.

"Heh, so now you can dodge, huh?"

Seeing me still try to avoid him, Silas’s eyes darkened with anger. He reached for my hair again, preparing to yank me by it.

Before his hand could touch my head, I shakily stood up, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. I knew I must look vulnerable at this moment, but I couldn’t back down.

“Silas, do you really have to do this?” I gripped the edge of my clothes, my voice trembling with a hint of desperation.

Was I scared of him?

Of course I was. How could I not fear a man like him? He was the type to strike with lethal force, and in a heartbeat, he could grab a knife and end my life.

Silas froze, tossing the hanger aside. He grabbed me by the neck and slammed me against the wall, his eyes burning with rage.

Then came the curse, shouted right in my face: “You damn slut, how dare you talk back to me? I’ll strangle you!”

His grip tightened around my throat, and breathing became harder.

Was I really going to die like this, so soon after everything had started? I felt a pang of unwillingness.

I slapped at his hand, trying to pry his fingers off, but he didn’t budge. It wasn’t until the phone rang that he finally released his grip and tossed me to the ground.

“Hey, Lena, what’s wrong? Don’t move, I’m coming to get you!” The voice on the other end of the phone sent a wave of concern across Silas’s pudgy face. He grabbed a coat and rushed out the door in a hurry.

As the door slammed shut, I could still hear his hoarse voice, “I’ll deal with you tonight when I get back.”