Someone Like Hugh -Draft Complete And EDITING-

Chapter Eight:

Hugh's POV:

Something wasn't right with Amelia. I saw it from the beginning. She's extremely intelligent, witty, and bright. But he mother treated her so badly, I think she may even be abusing her. If that's the case then why would she stay?

A woman came to relieve Amelia from the kitchen and ushered her upstairs to get ready. I waved her on, and stayed behind. "May I get you anything, Sir?" The woman asked me as Amelia left. 

"May I just have a ginger ale please?" I asked. "Please call me Hugh. What is your name?"

"My name is Melina Mason, s- Hugh," the older woman replied timidly

"What do you know about Amelia?" I asked casually as she handed me the ginger ale. "Thank you."

She nodded in response and leaned down to baste the turkey and stir the rice. "She is very good to us. She is kind and sweet, even when others are not. Certain people in this house do not treat her well, but she stays for those boys. She does what she can for them, her stepfather and brothers empathize with her, but say nothing when her mother mistreats her. It's a delicate situation. But lately, something seems off, she has been taking alot of medication. I'm just not sure why," Melina blurted out. Her eyes grew wide. "Forgive me, I've said too much!" She exclaimed.

She rushed to the fridge and began pulling out various side dishes that had been prepared, and began warming them. I replayed her words in my mind. "She's here for those boys," she had said. And Amelia had been talking about having her ability to choose be taken by circumstance.

It all made sense now. She was protecting her brothers.

"It's alright, Melina. Thank you," I smiled taking my ginger ale and began walking upstairs to the guest room.

As I walked down the hall I could hear the sound of a resounding slap. "You ungrateful bitch. I kept you, clothed you. I had my maids bathe you and feed you, you dare ask if you can rest before such an important event? No, you may not!"

I peered into the crack and found Amelia with her back to her mother. Her hand was digging into that wound on her shoulder. Her expression remained blank, refusing to give a reaction. It was like she went to a totally different place in her head.

I froze, then her eyes met mine through the crack. Shame washed over her face as she silently pled me not to get involved. I felt wrong, as if I'd just witnessed something personal I was never meant to see. I was enraged that her mother could treat her that way. It upset me even more that she didn't want my help.

I stood frozen. "If I didn't need your pretty little arms in working order, I would snap them right now," her mother continued. Amelia's eyes stayed locked onto mine, as her mother shoved her to the ground. She didn't fight back. She let it happen. "Go." She mouthed to me.

So I left.