But, Why Kill the Wolf?

Chapter Two

To the Devil with both you and that virtue of yours! Were the greeting words of Victoria's father, hours before sunrise as he and her mother came rushing through the front door.

Being woken up was one thing, but what actually annoyed her was that if she had been listening, who else on this damned half-mile of property started to perk up their ears as well? And only days before her whole moment, drama and talk throughout the neighborhood had been the last thing she wanted.

If she heard it, she was sure that any other soul passing by the estate could as well, and yet still they continued.

"You have to be joking?!"

"For the love of Christ just shut up Elizabeth! I cannot stand you now any more than any other time you open that wretched jowl of yours!"

"I've no more a jowl than you've a gut yet you continue on? If you've spent half as much time thinking with your head as you do your coin purse then perhaps we would agree on quite literally any single thing?!"

"And just what sort of man would you expect to reason with the back biting snake that stands now in the guise of a spaniel? If not tell the neighborhood, what should stop you from publicizing the whole events of our lives? Shout our follies from the damned rooftops, why don't you! Put us in the papers, or walk from door to door to explain we're naught but a family of fools, is that what you would wish?"

The yelling continued downstairs, forcing Victoria up and most likely Meredith as well, though neither would ever dare interfere. The sun had yet to rise, and would stay down for many more remaining hours, and Victoria at least took solace in the fact that her parents arrived home safe.

"You're always doped up and never listen, I never should have married you! I hate the family you've so loved and I ha-" Elizabeth screamed this last damnation and proclamation of hate before tolls too deep had been endured.

All Victoria heard was a slap and a loud thud against the wall, not far from her room, followed by more yelling from her father. There was nothing to be done, quite so from but a lowly daughter, lest she find herself in the same danger.

The noise came to an end after that, and with it any intent to fight back. Only soft sobs peaked through the cold air, still ill at ease.

It was only but a handful of moments after silence re-enveloped the house that Victoria heard the door of her room creak open.

The footsteps alone told her that it was her mother, still crying and despite the dark an obvious bruise was spotted. There was no need to turn and greet, it was obvious she'd be awake, and with care the soft white fur of the rabbit's foot disappeared into Victoria's sleeve.

"I'm so sorry..." Elizabeth pleaded to her daughter in a voice half dead, but all she did was look at the texture of the fabric of her sheets as her mother crawled into the bed.

"Mom, no it's... it's fine. Please, don't apologize. Please..."

Victoria didn't know what to say, or why her mother was apologizing to her. It was all too much. The sobbing subsided and with little attention, Elizabeth began playing with her daughter's hair. This had not been an unusual scene to hear played out but never had her mother felt the need to crawl into her bed before.

And still, she did not understand what her mother could be apologizing for.

Rather than sad she appeared... desperate. Almost needy; on the verge of asking a question or saying something yet unable completely to even open her mouth. It was pitiful.

The whole ordeal, the fighting, the late nights, the hair petting was all so nostalgic; Perhaps homey. A scene replayed time and time again forever since childhood.