The Great War

IX

Everything he did was like runes carved into my skin. Marks I'd carry with me for the rest of my life. Reminders of what I let occur. My friend, the boy I convinced myself I loved. I had given my life to him, everything I was became his property.

Because that's how I was always treated, property to be bought.

But that Ophelia died, I was no longer her, no longer myself. I never want to be her again. She was weak, obedient like a dog. A bitch to be pushed around and have her collar yanked by her master when she stepped out of line.

"I told you to stay away from him! Look at what he has done!" Father yelled as he paces, before freezing dead in his tracks. He spun and grabbed my arms, yanking me forward.

"Did he touch you? Steal your virtue? I don't know what I'll do with you... him if he did!" He growls and I look down and shake my head.

"No..."

He sighs and releases my arms before hugging me, the hug tight and possessive as he holds me suffocatingly. "There, there, my dear girl. This isn't a time to mourn, he was a truly ugly boy."

I hum mutedly and look down, body tense and heaving out silent shallow breaths. He lifts my head up and offers a smile. "This just means more devotion to your studies, yes? That's a good thing. Be proud of it."

I nod absently, just agreeing to please. Why did I please everyone so much? My gaze hardens when I drop it from his face, a feeling bubbling up. A rage. Undoubtedly burning, rippling, wanting out.

"I've finished my studies. I don't want more, I'd like to start a practice in town." I boldly spill out, his face contorting as he pulls back, hands folding in front of him as he stares me down menacingly.

"I must decline, dear. You know the rules."

I glare at his shoes, "There are no rules to life, father. I will live it the way I please." I spit out. My eyes slowly, threateningly, drifting up to his face.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you are speaking to young lady." He growls low, his posture going rigid as his hands clenched.

"I am speaking to my father. A despicable man." I push far over his patience, his face pinching up in his anger as he yanks my wrist up, leveling it between our chests as he pulls me in, nose to nose. Eyes glaring at one another with equal rage.

"You will apologize." He spits, but I am no longer a dog to be disciplined.

"I will do no such thing."

With a tantalizing laugh he pushes me back, stumbling as I bump into the small table behind my legs. Stabilizing myself, I place my palms on the table top.

"Go to your room." He raises a hand and slams it down on the table, caging me in. "Go to your room, remain silent, we will pick up on training tomorrow." He finishes, his red eyes boring into mine as I let out a disbelieving laugh.

"No."

"What did you say?"

I curl my lip up getting close to his face, "I said, no."

With one quick fluid movement I'm thrown off to the side of the table, my body clashing with the hard floor. With a grunt I twist away from him as he reaches for me. Getting to my feet I back away from him creating a useful distance.

"Don't touch me!" I keep backing up until I'm against the front door.

1738—

I kick my feet out with a comfortable groan as I stretch my arms above my head, the loose shirt I'd been given riding up my legs. It felt more than amazing to be without a dress.