SELENE, lucien castle

♛(10) mikaelsons

ʻ Head in the clouds
but my gravity centered
touch my neck
and I'll touch yours. ʼ

[Sweater Weather
→The Neighborhood]

trigger warning :

mentions of rape, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of self harm, mentions of pedophilia

CERELIA WASN’T always broken. Once upon a time, she was also a little radiant child. Just a child.

She could never quite forget the day everything changed, the day that marked the beginning of hell.

It was a sunny day, and she remembers being all alone in the garden, chasing butterflies, catching squirrels. She loved squirrels.

She didn’t notice the few men enter, and when her eyes fell onto the body they were burying, wrapped in taters, her innocent mind assumed it to be a sack of grain.

She remembers peering up at the head of that group, her doe eyes curious, her palms enclosed around the squirrel she’d managed to catch and stroke.

The man smiled down at her. The most vicious smile she’d ever seen. She disliked him immediately.

He’d crouched down in front of her, inquiring about the squirrel, and told her he knew where all the others lived.

She’d squealed in delight, excited to see a scurry of those furry little animals, and with that promise he’d taken her deep into the garden and further into the adjoining forest.

The rest was a nightmare.

She hated squirrels that day onwards. And she was not even eight yet.

Cerelia could never quite pinpoint what exactly was her fault. Why her? She surely wouldn’t have done that big of a sin in her past life.

For a year and a half to follow, her mother was her savior. She sent her away for studies, and Cerelia was happy to escape that monster. But then her mother grew sick.

With no one to support her in her bad times, Cerelia returned, no matter how much her mother relented, for they had no one but each other. Her father had passed away when she had not even started talking properly. A respected war hero. Sometimes, Cerelia wondered how different life would have been if he’d been alive and with her to save her from the monster that barged his way back into her life.

Cerelia often thought why she couldn’t have had the courage to end it all at once. Instead, she resorted to keeping a tally of how many times it happened. You wouldn’t believe that even her other hand had gotten half full of cuts.

No one else was brave enough to save her or even check on her except her own mother and Anne Kurye. But still even they didn’t have the courage to speak up against Young Sir. After all, they were just mere servants. And Cerelia didn’t blame them either. When she herself couldn’t speak up, how could she expect others to?