𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 [18+]

18: The Bitter Truth

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple"- Oscar Wilde

Rose's POV:

"Madeline DuPont is Madeline Quarsiekiev But of course you should know that since that is the reason why you killed her..."

My world stopped for a moment as a surge of memory hit me with it's pestiferousness.

"Please let me go!" I begged helplessly as I writhed on the floor, clutching my stomach as it pained from the vicious kick my mom delivered earlier. Tears fell undauntedly as pleas for mercy came out from my throat in the form of wretched whimper.

"You stupid bitch!" The woman I had come to call my mom, threw the bottle full of scotch away, making it clash on the cold surface with a loud shattering sound, "How dare you touch her?!" She pointed a finger toward my dark haired foster sister, who stood in a corner, trembling.

My eyes went to my sister, her black, almost brown mane was ruffled, her pretty pink princess dress was marred with dirt, some of it also stuck on her skin, making her beautiful white derm stand out more. Her smaragdine eyes were shadowed with melancholy.

She seemed scared, and disgusted with mom's behavior.

A sharp pain shot from my scalp which seemed to burn down my derm. I cried out in pain, clutching my mom's stronger hand that was gripping my hair with my much smaller ones. Her iron grip seemed to tighten more at my protest.

More tears leaked out as I tried freeing my hair, but no avail. An acuter pain went through my head as she pulled on them, tearing some of it.

"MOM PLEASE!" I screamed as my heard burned, "I AM SORRY! I WILL NEVER TOUCH HER!"

Suddenly, her grip loosened as my hair was let go. I clutched my head.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Little black dots danced in front of my vision as the agony became too much to bear. My eyes twitched as I struggled to remain awake.

"You better not touch her again," Mom stated, her voice scarily calm, "She is to be sold in a good price and I don't want you to associate with her."

And with that, she turned into her heels and left the room with shoulders squared p, as if, she didn't just hit a five year old, leaving me to deal with the pain she conflicted upon me.

My eyes hurt from crying, I was too exhausted to cry, but my eyes still moulted tears. They cried for my bodily grief, they cried for me.

I stared at her retreating figurine as rheum fell in drops, mingling with my sweat and getting their rest on the marbled floor.

"Rose-" A broken voiced whisper was heard, alarming me.

"Rose-" My foster sister ran toward me, her pink teddy bear still clutched tightly in her arms. I took in her blurry ghost of a figure through my misty vision.

"I'm sorry," Her voice was watery, her green eyes widened, "I'm so-"

"Go away..." I whispered, trying to crawl away from her.

"No! Rose!" She whispered, clutching my hand tightly. She was warm, unlike me. Her deerlike smaragdine eyes regarded me with sadness and guilt.

"I don't- I never meant wh-"

"It's done," I said cutting her off, "If mom sees me with you, she'll kill me and sell you."

Her grip on me tightened as her eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to leave you!" She cried out, her tears leaking free, "I want to make up for my mistakes! I want to apologize! I am so sorry Rose!"