Beneath the Surface

Shipwrecked

Needless to say, I dreaded my release day. I wasn't looking forward to being a prisoner in my own home, and I was looking forward to being left to Sarah's tender mercies even less. But there was no way for me to delay my release. I'd recovered enough to where I was now able to walk more or less without too much pain, but I was never going to be as lithe on my feet as I'd been before the fight. I also now had to wear special shoes designed to minimise any further damage that would be done during my usual day-to-day activities, but though I had the doctors' orders in my hand, I knew, as I walked out to where Uncle Ben was waiting for me, with Sarah standing smugly by his side, that those orders would be disregarded, if not outright destroyed. 

Sure enough, Sarah turned to me as Uncle Ben pulled into the rear driveway. "Hand them over," she said. Her tone was sugary sweet, but her words were like ice. 

I silently did as I was told, hands clenched tightly in my lap as I watched her peruse the papers, her lips pursed. "Father," she said at last, "did your requests include special shoes?"

Uncle Ben peered at the papers. "Not that I recall," he said. "I simply told the doctors to do all they could. I never specified that any further at-home care would be required."

Sarah threw me a triumphant smile. "Then I don't suppose these 'special shoes' are really needed, are they?"

"Not really," Uncle Ben said, his tone ending any discussion on the matter. "I'm sure Charlotte can manage just fine in normal shoes, can't you?"

"Yes, Uncle Ben," I said as meekly as I could manage. 

Sarah's lips pursed again, and this time, I could see a slow-simmering rage in her eyes. "Did you tell her she could continue calling you uncle?" she said.

Uncle Ben grunted as he unlocked the doors. "I never said she couldn't," he said, "but I don't think it's appropriate any more. I am her Alpha, and she needs to address me as such."

I sighed as I got out of the door, focusing on the pain in my feet as I walked to get my suitcase. Uncle Ben - Alpha Ben, rather - held up his hand. "Go upstairs," he told me. 

"Yes, Alpha," I said, bowing my head in what I hoped was a suitable display of submission. Sarah caught up to me as we started up the rear stairs, each step sending a stab of pain through my feet. I tried my hardest not to let the pain show, but Sarah could clearly see the agony. And she had something to say about it.

"Stop faking it," she hissed, as she threw the rear upstairs door open. "You're not as 'crippled' as you think you are." She gave a short, harsh laugh as we entered the upper level of the house where I was now to stay for the rest of my life. "And just in case you thought you had it bad before, you're about to learn what real suffering is."

To prove her point, she grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me around, and slammed me against the wall. "Lesson number one," she said, her face inches from mine. "You never, ever call me or Father by name again. You don't deserve to sully them with your filthy, lying little tongue."

"Lesson number two." She seized me by the hair, forcing my head up until I had no choice but to look her in the eye. "You will only speak when spoken you. And don't even think about asking questions. Your role is not to question. Your role is to obey. And if I had my way, you'd be scrubbing floors and cleaning toilets for the rest of your miserable days. You don't deserve the chance to go to school. You don't deserve an education. You don't deserve the bed you sleep on, the food you eat, or the clothes you wear. In fact, you don't deserve even the luxury of a roof over your head. I'm only allowing it because Father seems to think you are deserving of the courtesies you abused the day you decided to attack me for no reason."

I kept my mouth shut, knowing it was better to let her get this vitriol out of her system so I could have the chance to process it in relative privacy afterwards. But even that hoped-for luxury was ripped away from me with Sarah's next words. "Lesson number three," she said, finally letting go of my hair. "You will have no privacy. Father means to have you watched, to make sure you don't go crazy-pants on us again. So everywhere you go, I go. To the toilet, the bathroom, and your bedroom. The door is never to be closed on me, and if it is, you get all your doors taken away. It's a pity we go to different schools, but I'm sure the teachers at your school will make sure you're watched all the time you're there." She smiled, a cold smile that never touched her eyes. "Better get used to all the attention, freak," she said. "You're never going to be free of us. Ever. I don't care what Father says. Once he's gone, I become Alpha, and I will ensure you never, ever get the chance to escape. You're a Keystone, and you will always be a Keystone. So get used to it."

I shivered as she finally stepped back, and my heart once more was a lead weight in my chest as I silently followed her to what would now be our room. I prayed that somehow, someway, her vigilance would relax in some form, but I already knew that prospect was long dead. It had died the moment I set foot in the place that was now to be my prison for the rest of my life.

Even so, a small spark of defiance slumbered deep in my chest. I wasn't the monster Sarah had made me out to be that fateful day in July. She could label me as such all she wanted, but I knew, deep in the core of my being, that I was better. 

And one day, the whole world would know how much of a manipulative bitch she was.