Double Star

23 : Virginity Lost.

POV Betty :

I never knew why I couldn't get used to the wicked grip of fear and intimidation I feel every time I get near this odious, cursed house.

I thought I could let my mind have some rest tonight.

— "You told me he... wouldn't be here." I tried to stay calm, catching my breath little by little. If I do something wrong, he'll be mad—and there's nothing like him when he's mad.

— "I was wrong." She simply shrugged.

— "What did you tell him?" I closed my eyes, feeling my hands shaking in their sweat.

— "Nothing. You were at work, right?" She smiled, hiding her true intentions behind her slanting eyes.

— "Come on, Betty! Don't stay at the door. This home is yours, too." She pulled me violently toward her and slammed the door.

— "Honey, she's here!" she screamed, dragging me to their room. He was there, sitting on the corner of the bed, holding a beer in his hand. His eyes were glossy, drifting around the room, his gaze floating over their surroundings. His mouth hung slightly open, and the stench of alcohol was so awful it reminded me how much this man was the root of my enormous agony—and how powerless, frightened, and abandoned I felt.

He turned his gaze suddenly toward us—or, to be more exact, toward me.

— "Betty, say something! He's angry." She whispered to me, her hand on my shoulder. My heart suddenly tightened; I was petrified.

— "Good evening, Father. Sorry for being late." I pretended to say softly.

He started moving, lacking determination, stumbling around with irregular footsteps, until the smell of alcohol reached me harder.

— "Oh, Betty, my sweet, gorgeous Betty! Where were you? Do you know how much you made your poor father worried? Oh, Betty!" He ran his filthy hand through my hair, then caressed my face slowly before pressing hard on my lips and my chin.

— "You wanted to leave me?" he asked with teary, red eyes, while I breathed heavily through my nostrils.

— "Answer me!" he screamed. I tried to say no with my mouth, but he was still blocking it with his pressing thumb, so I shook my head painfully.

— "LIAR!" The sound of the bottle smashing against the wall mixed with my sharp intake of breath. He started pacing and mumbling nervously, then turned to the woman beside me, who had blood flowing down her forehead from the shattered glass.

— "GET OUT!" Her body stiffened for an instant, and fear invaded her eyes even more.

— "I SAID GET OUT!" He was ready to hit her, but she rushed to the door.

— "Alright, honey! I'm leaving! I'm leaving!" She gave me one last reassuring smile, then slammed the door behind her—abandoning me again.

— "Why do you hate me, Betty? Why? I gave you all my love, all my attention, and still, you want to go away from me." He knelt and started shedding tears like a deranged drunkard, then took me in his arms, making me want to vomit more and more.

— "Oh, Betty! You don't know how much I love you! What would I do if you leave me? Promise me you won't do that again!" He smiled broadly, and I found myself doomed to nod in silence—always in silence.

— "Do you love me?" he asked with bright, concerned eyes.

— "I do." I closed my eyes, tortured by this unforgivable lie. I have no love for this man. Absolutely none. I only feel deep hatred and disgust toward him. I am so angry—so angry. I have this huge wrath taking over all the emotions I've ever felt in my abominable life. My father's image will forever be broken, and it's horrible to admit. I want him to go to jail—to let him rot there for eternity, just as he did with my head and my body—just as he made me feel: all alone.