Heart Stabber (Princess Red)

1.

A/n: This entire book (including this chapter) will have stuff that can be triggering (Underage drinking, drug usage, violence, etc.) and I will probably forget to put warnings on future chapters so this is your warning.

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Scarlett was born on the isle, her mother being none other than the Mother Gothel. Her father was one of the Stabbington brothers, the one with sideburns. Her hair had blonde streaks that stood out among the fiery copper color. Her eyes were like waves crashing onto a beach, brown in the center that was surrounded by a blue that turned grey. Her skin was pale with cinnamon-colored spots sprinkled everywhere.   

Her parents didn't care for her, she was a mere accident, and they made it clear she was. Her father was a drunk, always yelling at her and calling her names. She gained a scar on her thigh from her father throwing a beer bottle towards her, it hit the floor and glass shot up, cutting through her flesh. She was only three and sure enough she knew exactly how to clean her wound and wrap it. 

Her parents finally gave her up when she was five, not wanting anything to do with her. She was left alone until her uncle scooped her up and brought her into his home. Unlike her parents, he did a wonderful job at raising her and teaching her what she needed to know. She was finally treated like a person.

Scarlett had always known the Isle as a place of quiet hardship. The streets were lined with crumbling buildings and faded storefronts, and the homes were as worn as the people who lived in them. At a young age, she had learned to navigate through the rough corners of the isle, without being spotted.

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On an autumn afternoon, Scarlett was headed to get food for the house. As she walked, she heard a commotion-harsh laughter and muffled cries. Her heart sank as she followed the sounds to a small, grimy alley behind the lined-up shops.

There, a group of older boys surrounded a younger kid. The boy, no older than herself, was hunched over, trying to shield himself from their taunts and blows. Scarlett's stomach twisted. The Isle might be tough, but she couldn't bear to see anyone, especially someone so young, subjected to this kind of cruelty. Picking on someone strictly because they're smaller and weaker is something that Scarlett despised.

With a determined stride, Scarlett stepped into the fray. "Hey! Leave him alone!"

The bullies turned, their faces twisting from surprise to scorn. The leader, a tall boy with a scar down his cheek, sneered. "What's it to you, huh?"

Scarlett's eyes were sharp. "I said, get away from him. Now."

The bullies laughed, clearly unprepared for the interruption. Scarlett's face was a mask of grim determination as she moved in, her small frame agile and swift. She dodged their blows with practiced ease, pushing one boy away and swinging at another. She was only hit once, the boy had a ring on that broke skin, cutting down her cheek as he pulled his hand across her face harshly. She felt the blood trail down to her neck as she fought the rest of the group until they left.

Scarlett turned to the boy, who was now sitting on the filthy ground, trembling and staring up at her with wide, tear-streaked eyes.

"Are you okay?" Scarlett asked gently, extending a hand.

The boy took her hand with a shaky grip and struggled to his feet. "I... I'm okay. Thanks for helping. They always pick on me."

Scarlett noticed his ragged clothes and the bruises forming on his skin. Her heart ached for him. "I'm Scarlett. What's your name?"

"Josiah," he replied, his voice quavering and his gaze flitting nervously around the alley.

Scarlett thought of her own struggles and the small space she shared with Patchy. The Isle might be rundown, but it was all she knew. "Where do you live, Josiah?"