𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜(𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚎)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

song of the chapter: freak by lana del rey

"you're cold as ice, baby. but when you're nice, baby. you're so amazing in every way."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

      My fifteenth birthday. I had just gotten the dreaded visit from my father, and now I was in the corner, shaking from the pain. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I could never sleep on my birthday.

     My thin undershirt had been mostly cut up by the whip. I couldn't take it off or put anything else on without great agony. I heard a knock on the door.

"Go away!" I screamed, not wanting to face my brother.

        We hadn't spoken in five days due to a petty argument. I wasn't going to let my grudge go just because of the pain I was in.

"I'm taking you to the medical wing," he declared.

"No, I don't want them to see me like this!" I called.

       Those were the people I trained with. Worked with. The other nurses. Despite my protests, he paraded into the room.

"Then I'll clean you up," he decided.

"I thought you hated me," I grumbled.

       I fathomed that I was being dramatic. Of course he didn't hate me. I was one of the only people he cared about other than our mother. But lately, the two of us didn't get along.

"Don't be ridiculous, Rory," he chastised, pacing over to me. "I could never hate you." He lifted me up and had me lean onto the dresser. "Are you okay with me lifting the back of your shirt?"

"Yes, just be careful," I managed, clenching my teeth. "Some of the fabric is stuck in the wounds."

"I'll do my best," he promised.

       I winced, biting down on my hand as he carefully lifted my shirt. The wounds hit the fresh air and began to sting much worse. He poured disinfectant on it, and I almost screamed. But I managed to bite it back.

"You're okay," he assured me.

      I heard him getting something and when he came back, the sting of a needle was piercing through me. I whimpered, biting on my hand until I had drawn blood.

      He spent what felt like an hour stitching up the fifteen wounds. He wrapped up the wounds and handed me a clean shirt from my closet.

"Thank you," I mumbled, feeling ashamed for having treated him badly.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" he wondered.

       He knew I wouldn't sleep. And I really didn't want to be alone. I nodded, not able to look in his eyes. I was far too stubborn for my own good.

       I hadn't left my bed in five days. Delalieu brought me food, and I didn't eat it. I wondered if he cared that his daughter was dead.

           I wondered if my father even knew his wife was dead. I cried sometimes, but mostly I wallowed in my grief.

         Aaron had checked up on me a few times, but mostly everyone left me alone. I preferred it that way. It was morning now; I could see the sun rising outside my window.

        My door opened, and I didn't even turn to see who it was. Someone sat on my bed, and a soft hand was on my shoulder. I shook it off.

"Aurora?" Juliette greeted. "We need you."