The Villain in Whose Story (Phosie Fanfic)

009

"Strict"

TW: Mentions of Past Self Harm. Past Abuse. If you are uncomfortable with this topic scroll down until you see the bold words. There is also one use of a homophobic slur

Hope POV

    "Penelope, what the fuck is this?" I'm shocked by what I see. I had seen something strange on Penelope's wrist so I grab it to take a closer look at it. I'm looking down at scars. She's looking away from me and she pulls back her hand. "Nothing," I hear her mumble. She starts to get up but I grab her arm and pull her down back onto the bed. "Talk." She looks at me and sighs. "My parents are very strict. Whenever I didn't do well in anything they would yell at me and tell me how useless I was. Sometimes when my father got drunk he would um h-hit me. Or punish me by tying me up in our shed or locking me in my room without dinner. So when my parents found out that I was dating Josie they said they didn't want a dyke in their household," she takes a deep breath and continues. 

   "So I ran away. They called me home and said they wanted to talk. My father was drunk and he was mad so he just lost control. He just kept hitting me and wouldn't stop." She has tears dripping down her face and I grab her hands. Her hands are shaking so I stroke her hand with my thumb to try to calm her down. She gives me a grateful smile and continues. "They said to go up to my room to think about my mistakes. I stumbled up the stairs and made my escape. I was living on the streets making money by doing magic when Dr. Saltzman found me and took me here." She looks away and wipes her tears. "I didn't think they loved me anymore and all the emotions were too much to handle so I grabbed a blade and ran it over my skin over and over. I would just cut and cut until I was numb." 

TW ends here for both. Please read from this point on. Basically, Penelope's parents were abusive verbally and physically. When they found out she was lesbian they got into a physical fight and Penelope ran away. She couldn't handle the pain and emotion of thinking her parents didn't love her so she self-harmed. 

   I pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear, "It's okay love, even if they don't love you, I do." I grab her wrists and start kissing them. She starts to giggle and I keep kissing them. My expression darkened and I asked, "Penelope, would you be sad if your parents died?" She pauses to think and says, "No, not really." "Good, what's your address, Penelope? Just a friendly question." She gives me a stern look and says, "No Hope, you are not going to kill my parents." I sigh and mutter, "Fine." We lay down again and she rests her head on my chest. I soon hear her breathing steady out and she relaxes. I play with her hair while thinking about what to do. Should I kill her parents? Or should I let them live? I'll just let them live. Maybe I should pay them a visit though. Perhaps I'll go tomorrow. Shit, I have to go back to New Orleans to get a dress for the prom tomorrow. Or I could just have Aunty Bex bring me one. I'll just do that. Since I know that Penelope's a heavy sleeper I grab my phone and make a call. 

   "Hello, Hope! How are you?" "I'm good. I'm actually calling for a favor." "Alright then, what is it?" "I was wondering if you could come to the Salvatore School for Supernaturals and drop off a dress for me." "Why are you there? And why do you need a dress?" "I go to school here. I need the dress for this prom thing that they're having." "Oh, a prom? Do you have a date?" I chuckle lightly and say, "Yes, actually I do." "What's his name?" I smile at my next words, "Her name is Penelope, and she is wonderful." "Aw, is my niece in love?" "W-what! No, I-I'm not," I stutter out. "If you say so. Alright well, I have to go but I have the perfect dress for you. It was nice talking to you Hope. I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye." "Goodbye." The line ends and I put my phone on the nightstand. I use magic to turn the lights off and close my eyes. Unfortunately, sleep eludes me and I end up laying there awake until morning comes.