BOMBS AWAY ➤ kaz brekker

string me up like a broken doll

WARNING: CHILD ABUSE

Ever since childhood, Esther had always held a certain hatred for Fjerdans.

There were a multitude of reasons why, but the most prominent one was that her stepmother and sister were Fjerdan through and through, devout in their worship of Djel and stubborn in holding the same beliefs as the drüskelle and other like-minded peoples. Aside from the fact that she was Grisha, she had come to associate her cold-blooded relatives with agony and anger. She had never felt anything else where they were involved.

Her father hadn't been a religious man. He was too... indifferent. It wasn't necessarily the right word, but she couldn't think of another one. He just never seemed to need anything beyond his crops and the occasional glass of kvas to make him feel cultured. And he was too much of a pushover to throw his weight so completely behind something. So he never uttered a word when Greta rounded up her children, one related by blood and one an unwanted bother, to teach them of the wonderful Djel. She had preached his teachings and prayed to the ash tree that was symbolic to her faith every night. She taught Esther and Marit to do the same. While Marit was perfectly happy to conform, Esther preferred to hide in the trees  when her stepmother came calling. But she was only so hidden, and sooner or later Greta found her. And the consequences were always very grave.

Esther remembered perfectly the first time she had decided to run away from her stepmother during "Djel-time," as Greta called it, in that sickly sweet voice of hers, trying to make it seem innocent to the young girls. 

Her melodic voice had echoed throughout the house, a sharp ring that hurt young Esther's ears. She had been drawing in her room, a shadow of talent in the form of charcoal blobs that somewhat resembled people. The scene on the hoarded piece of paper was partially blocked by all the other doodles that filled the page, but it was still clearly a drawing of her, Kaz, and Jordie, holding hands and laughing while running through the field outside her house. The drawing wasn't colored, but anyone with eyes could tell that the house in the background was on fire.

Greta called again, and Esther heard the pounding footsteps of Marit hurrying down the stairs. Marit, the perfect daughter, the better sister. Always so eager to do right and impress Greta. She was Greta's real daughter. She was wanted. She was loved. She was everything Esther wasn't and then some, worshiped just as much as Djel in the Janssen household. It was no surprise when her father turned a blind eye to the older girl hitting Esther or locking her in the barn. 

Suddenly, Esther was struck with the thought of simply not going. It was ridiculous, it was madness. Attending her stepmother's religious lessons was required, and it seemed to the young girl that it was the law of the land. It was as good as treason not to go. But there was a tree branch extending right by her window, and it wasn't far to the ground. She could climb out, run into the woods, and never have to return to the home of the witch again. She could live among the sweet-faced forest animals for her life. Maybe there would even be a kind old woman in a cottage who would take her in and feed her candy and rock her on her knee before bedtime. Esther was only seven, and she would still fit. She could invite the Rietveld boys. Everything would be better, and she would never have to see Greta's ugly face again.

Her stepmother called out a third time.

She went to the window.

She opened it.

She climbed out onto the branch, thick enough to support her small weight, and clambered down, a well practiced movement, though it was her first time climbing this particular tree. It was higher than she'd ever gone before, but she tried not to think about it. The rough bark tore the soft palms of her hands, and a bird cried out above her, like an alarm. She was moving too slowly. She tried to move down faster, her feet frantically reaching for the next foothold. It took an agonizingly long time, but her tiny, bare feet finally reached the ground, and then she was off.

Her window looked out over the woods, close to the side of the house. All she had to do was run across the open green and then she'd be safe among the trees. She could almost smell the sweet cherry pie the old lady was going to bake for her. Without so much as a backward glance, she bolted through the grass, ignoring the sharp pain of a rock poking into her foot, or the tickle of the emerald blades against her ankles.

"Girl!" Esther heard Greta's high-pitched shriek and fear spiked through her. Whipping her head over her shoulder, she saw her stepmother standing at the side door, a tarnished apron wrapped around her waist, her face livid. Marit stood behind her, clutching her skirts. Too big for that, Esther thought. But Marit had a smug look contorting her features, one that made her want to vomit. She wished Kaz or Jordie were here to protect her. But there was no one who ever protected her. Not her father, not her real mother, not her sister. They all left her to fend for herself. She tried to run faster, but her little legs were no match for her stepmother. She tried to kick and scream when her harsh hands snatched her up, and when she picked her up around the waist and carried her back inside. Her fists beat against Greta's arms, but they didn't even bruise.

Greta placed her down on the floor of the kitchen and promptly struck her across the face. Esther cried out, clutching a tiny hand to her wounded cheek. 

"You are a horrible child," Greta hissed. "I am doing this because you deserve it. Djel turns his back on you, you horrid thing." She hit Esther again, slapping her in the same place. A bruise was already blossoming. Esther began to sob.

"You would dare cry after the crimes you have committed?" her stepmother shrieked.

"Greta-"

"Be silent, Sander." She said her father's name like it was an insult. He stepped back, the faintest look of pain hovering in his eyes. 

"Father! Father!" Esther begged for him to help her, to take her away from this place. But all he did was shake his head sadly.

"I love you, Esther," he whispered. But she didn't think he was telling the truth. It was worthless to Esther anyway. If he had really cared, he would have helped her. He slipped away, the front door thudding shut. 

"Even he, the only person in this household who shares your blood, abandons you," Greta cackled. "Do you not wonder why? I'll tell you. You are demon spawn. You are a worthless child. It is only my kindness and my faith in Djel that keeps you alive. Yet you avoid him?" Her stepmother gripped her hair. "I only hope you are spared in the next life, for I will not spare you in this one."

Her mother sent her into her room, with no food or water, for the next five days. Esther had never been a particularly healthy child, despite her boundless energy. But at the end of those five days, she was thin, frail, and closer to her breaking point than she had ever been. Her stomach had dissolved inside of her. Her lungs rattled with every breath. The bruise on her cheek had faded only slightly, but the criss-crossing broken veins were still prominent on her skin. And she knew she could never, ever tell Kaz and Jordie. If Greta found out, she'd skin her alive and string her mutilated body up for all to see. So she suffered all alone, and whenever the Rietveld boys came over, her stepmother turned them away, telling them she was sick.

But Esther didn't want to succumb to her stepmother's will. So when she was well enough again to attempt it, she ran from Djel-time, always searching for the old woman who would protect her. She never found one, and she was caught every time. It wasn't even worth it, not really. But she would not be broken. She pretended she was a princess, and she wore a fiery crown upon her brow. She wondered now if Kaz could see it.

Hi,

So I don't usually do notes at the end of chapters, however I wanted to talk a bit about this chapter. It is really, really dark but it's a really important part of Esther's backstory and it had to be included to continue her development. However I do not condone child abuse in any way, shape, or form. It's horrible and should be taken seriously.

Don't worry, in the next chapter I'll include lots of banter and Kaz being a total simp to make the story a bit more lighthearted :)