{A SHORT STORY}Where Is My Happy Ending, The Real Villainess Story

Do I dare?!!

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That evening when he left. I was pulled by arms and dragged to my room to be punished for my transgressions by my maids. The spies of me.
I relented to the pull and leaned in further to allow easier carriage.
I was thrown into my own room and my ten year old body was easily bruised. But it didn't hurt, at least, not as much as my usual injuries.
Something that was yet to come, literally. I heard her shoes and her closer steps.
I had thought I was already mentally experienced to this maltreatment and was ready for yet another experience but I was very wrong. The closer she was came, the harder my heart beat. And I just knew today's punishment would be far worse than the usual. It was going to really hurt.
She stepped through the door with a whip in hand. With a light close, she stepped closer to me.
She ordered me closer and I shook my head fearfully. Why she did this to me, I couldn't decipher.
"Annabeth, come here now!." I pressed my weight to the wall behind me frozen and still, too ridden to move.
She snarled at me, dragged me and pushed me to the floor.
And she began to whip me.
With all her might, all her strength and all her emotions she poured out to my pain.
I cried and yelled, screamed and shrieked. I yelled and yelled, even though I knew no one was coming. The whooshing of the whip far surpassed my cries and hit harder than before.
My skin bled, my hair was scattered and my body ached.
The whip was beginning to smear up with my blood, the metallic smell filled the room as my screams filled the room and grew louder.
I knew this torture wouldn't end soon and I resorted to my last aid. Plea.
I begged for her, I begged and begged, pleading with such pain filled voice and hoarse tone.
She stopped and looked down at me.
My breathing was hard now and she was panting with a sick grin on her face.
"You think you'll disgrace me and get away with, don't you?!" she screamed at my face, she began to hit harder and faster, like a drum beater and I was an object of practice .
Then she began yelling on top of her voice, Warma came running into the room like a statue, all she did was breathe evenly in the room, no more movement and no remorse. Mother yelled at her to clean up my room, clean up my wounds and restrict my eating for three days.
She turned to me to access the damage done and nodded curtly.
Mother left the room after a final whip and I think I passed out.
When I woke up, my head was bandaged, my legs and arms plastered and bandaged.
With an aching stomach, all I could do was fall asleep.
That was my only short cut through the situation and so far, it had helped on various many occasions similar to my current state.