Stella
After Zayn left, I force myself to shower even though my body feels like slime. I just want to lay in bed and live the moments with Zayn once more in my head. I have never had an orgasm that was soul shattering, where my legs were shivering like I was standing bare in the Artic and my eyes could see the northern lights from my bed. The haze of the orgasm has made me almost sore. Still, I push myself off the bed and my wobbly legs lead me to the bathroom.
I am still naked, not having put my clothes back on since Zayn took them off. A breath rushes through my nostrils as I stand in front of the mirror in awe. I couldn't recognise the woman in front of me, couldn't believe she is me. I have morphed from a girl into a woman. A woman with needs and desires.
My reflection holds my neck, shoulders, abdomen and breasts all splattered with red marks and purple bruises. Stains of Zayn's mouth on me. My lips form an O looking at the lovebites across my upper half. It turns me on how Zayn has left his claim on me. I couldn't take my gaze off myself, secretly loving the red and purple blotches, like tattoos on my skin. My fingers trace them from my neck, to the valley between my breasts and finally my stomach. I eye myself with a fire only Zayn irises holds, I see myself through his eyes, understand his hunger and let my fingers go lower. They land on the sweet spot between my legs and I wish Zayn was here as lust once again takes over me.
.....
The hot shower erases me of sin. I am finally back to my senses. My high says goodbye as anxiety greets me. It is only a matter of time before I have to face my fears, even though I am grateful to Zayn for the distraction, I know I have a call to return. I once ran away from my dad but not this time, I am strong now.
When my dad was alive he made my life hell but even in death his torment was yet to be concluded. I look down, imagining him rotting in hell and pop out my middle finger, "Motherfucker." Then ring his lawyer.
As the call goes on the other side, nerves choke my breath supply. The familiar feeling coiling my chest and a hammer beating in my head. Not again. Putting the phone away I fill my lungs with a deep breath. I am strong now. I repeat.
"Hello" My voice sounds small and brittle.
"Hi, dear. How are you doing now?" The woman on the other line is empathetic, only if she knew.
"Good. Fine." I utter.
"I'm glad you finally found the courage to call. Would you like to discuss your fathers will?" Now her voice turns from sweet to business.
"Uh. Sure." Discomfort evident in my agreement. I am not ready to talk about that motherfucker, let alone his will. I am sure my name isn't even there.
"Well, would you like to meet or do this over call?" She asks too many questions. This call is taking excruciatingly long, I'm losing patience. Just get to the point woman.
"Call is fine." If I couldn't contain my emotions on a phone call, in person would've been a nightmare.
"Alright, dear. Here it says he has about fifty grand in hi-"
"What?" I cut her off. "Fifty grand?" Un-fucking-believable. He is worth fifty grand? Fifty grand?
"Yes, dear. You heard it right. Fifty grand. In his bank account." A short laugh follows.
From what I remember, we barely had any money. It was a miracle if me and my sister got over two meals in a day. We lived in severe poverty, having inherited a house from grandfather was how we got a roof over our heads. The bills were overflowing otherwise, we had to survive without electricity because paying for it would cut our food down from two to one meal. And this motherfucker had fifty grand lying in his bank account. I didn't even know he had a bank account.
"Well, there is only your name here. So you inherit the house and the money." She is back to business.
"I don't want anything to do with his money, you can put it on fire or better yet donate it to charity. Atleast his money could him some good in death." I am furious at him, I want to scream. I try to contain my aggression but it pours out of me anyways as I practically shout at the woman.
"Uhh, okay. But we would need your signature first and a choice of charity." She says a little fazed by my outbreak.
"I would happily sign off his money as far away as possible from me. And about the charity, an orphanage is good." Orphanages hold a special place in my heart especially because more than half of my life was spent without any guardian and the time I was around my parents, they were barely parents to me. I envied happy families but at the same time felt a content rush for their blessedness. I wouldn't have money put anywhere else than an orphanage, where parentless children like myself once would have a chance at life like myself now.
"What about the house?" That house I used to call home, detains bad, really bad memories. I want nothing to do with it either. Thinking of it- the stairs through which I was pushed off multiple times or the kitchen with cooking utensils that were used for beatings or the closet that I was locked into- fills me up with dread.
"No. Nothing. I want nothing to do with it." My voice drops suddenly, I am living the memories again. Flashbacks engulf me in a cloud of pain and agony, I am stuck in my place, not able to move. No. No. No. My heart sinks as I beg god. Please no.
She ran after me with a metal rod that she stole from her friend's garage, my new beating stick these days. "You want to study, don't you? Huh? Bitch come here, I'll teach you a few lessons first." Her rotting teeth widely spread across her face as she enjoyed watching me squirm. I just asked if I could go to school and that made her go nuts, she came after me fuming. I screamed in fear, "Sorry" "I'm sorry" "Mom, no. Please don't." "Nooooooo......"
"Hello? Miss, are you there?" The lawyer's sound wakes me from my trip to the past.
"Y-yea" My lips quiver as I break out in sweats. Pushing the sad memory away.
"The house. It's yours now. You can't change his will." So much for an inheritance. Ugh.
"Sell it." I press firmly.
"I can't. You have to." She is getting annoyed now.
"Find a loophole or something. You're the lawyer, not me." I am growing impatient by the second. Haven't I made myself clear I want nothing to do with any of this?
"There is none. You can collect all the stuff from the house and then put it up for selling, if you'd like. I can't help anymore than that. It's your house after all." She says agitated, and rushes her speech like she has more work to do and I'm keeping her away from it.
"Alright." I mutter "bitch" under my breath.
I can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that he left me with everything in his will. He could've given it to anyone. Why me? He hated me. In his eyes I wasn't even worth one cent. He always told me I was a little slut with a tight fucking cunt he wanted to sell after having first, but slapped me because I could only earn him a cent if he put me on the market. Why leave this slut fifty thousand dollars then?
Then it hits me. My sister. Where was my sister? My little baby? Why wasn't she on the will? The lawyer only mentioned me on the will, not her once.
"Why isn't my sister on the will?" I ask suddenly interested. I wanted to find out about her since the day I ran. Where was she? Was she alright? What did they do to her? Most importantly, why did that bastard not include her in his will?
"I thought you knew." She says irritated as ever.
"Knew what?" Anticipation makes my heart beat faster and my hand starts to shake. Please give me something. Please.
"She's dead."
YOU ARE READING
Bloom
Romance"I hate you." I scream in his face, not realizing that he has me backed up against a wall, only inches away from me. "I hate you." I whisper again, my breathing heavier and my drained feeble body aching with desire. His proximity is killing me and...
