𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨 - 𝙖 𝙙𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮

4 - better daughter

"oh dilute me
gentle angel"

Silence. Complete silence. Ashley tentatively made her way further into the house. Her mother was on the couch, a wine bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She could see the tear stains on her mother's cheeks. She made her way to the kitchen head hung low. The kitchen table. She just needed to make it to the kitchen table. A brown box with hearts doodled all over. Her face scrunched up at the thought of the little monster that had drawn on her package. Her father's youngest, Amelia, who was convinced that they were best friends. She shot her hand out to grab the package and speed walked to her room. Being careful to not slam her door she threw the box on the floor and flopped on her bed. Thoughts raced a mile per hour through her head. Psycho. Amelia Moore. Will. The mysterious girl. Alex Moore. She grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. She sat up abruptly and glared at the package across her room. Curiosity made her get up and walk to the dreaded box. She sat on the floor and took it in her hands. Ripping it open she found several drawings from the five year old on top. A tiny smile grew at the girl's persistence. She shuffled through the papers admiring the flower fields and blobs that were most likely supposed to be people. With a pile of drawings next to her she then found an envelope with her name on it. She recognized the writing. It was Alex's. Her lame excuse of a dad. She huffed and tossed it aside not wanting to read the same exact rant about wanting her to come visit. There was some tissue paper covering what she knew to be her gift. She lifted it expecting a lame on trend shirt or bag. She gasped.

"Oh dear god…"

Four canvases and a set of paint tubes. They weren't that expensive, but for Ashley? They were gold. She didn't have much money, taking up odd jobs here and there. Canvases and paint were never her top priority.

"How the fuck did he know.."

Moving the gift out of the box she found the usual stack of pictures. She picked one up and examined it. Amelia looked so old. She ignored the other people in the picture. Alex had a stepdaughter Maria, and his new wife Rosalie. Ashley didn't care. Amelia may be a little child-devil but she was the best out of the whole family. Alex had left his daughter to be raised by an abusive mother, Rosalie hadn't done anything but taking the place of her mother, which was enough of a reason for Ashley to hate her, and Maria had been passive aggressive in the letter she had included in one of the packages, but Amelia had become a sister to Ashley, in a weird love-hate way, and she's the only one she would willingly meet.

Bang. Ashley's head snapped up. Her mother was standing in the doorway. The initial sadness had obviously worn off. "You staring at your new family?" Her mother's slurred voice drawled out. She still had the wine bottle in her hand, barely any left. Ashley could smell the alcohol on her breath.

She frantically shook her head. "N- no I was just- Amelia she- uhhh canvases." Ashley sputtered out a response, mixing up her words.

"Amelia. The little bitch your father started over with?"