Shadows Of Betrayal

Chapter One.

Penelope

I tiptoe through the garden entrance at the back door of my house trying my best not to be loud as to not wake father. My bare feet welcoming the chill of the dewy grass as I meander over to the beautiful rose bush with my book in hand.

Mother and I would always come out here after I finished my lessons to enjoy the sun and read, we would play tag in the yard her chestnut hair blowing in the wind as she pretended like she wasn't fast enough to catch me while father would be inside making us lavender lemonade. My heart squeezes at the distant memory leaving a bittersweet feeling behind.

'The only reason you're still here is because her dying wish was to save you.'

Father's voice rings through my head as I remember our argument earlier, I forgot to pick up the bag of birdseed from the front porch before I headed inside after feeding the ravens. It was stupid and forgetful on my part, I always feed them morning and evening collecting the trinkets they bring to me in return. This simple mistake turned into being berated by father over mother's death, as per usual, with any of my mistakes. It's been two years since the Red Fever got her and he hasn't been the same since, sometimes I don't know the man who claims to have raised me.

I shake my thoughts away and head to my seat on the granite bench the coldness of it clipping my at my thighs as I sit down and open my book I try my best to get lost in the book and wrapped up in the sentences to shield away the thoughts entering my brain but can't seem to even get through the first sentence. I decide to get up from my seat and kneel down into the garden beside all of my- well my mothers tools, the soil is damp beneath my fingertips and most of my worriers seem to dissipate. The Lilacs were in full bloom hanging with heavy sweetness those were her favorite. I often loose myself here, digging and planting. I allow my hands to work while my mind floats away with the delicate but sharp breeze. Hours pass and suddenly I hear the back door slam shut and I jump nearly out of my skin glancing over seeing my fathers silhouette in the dim lights hanging down from the garden entrance.

"What are you doing out here at this hour, I am trying to sleep and you have these goddamned lights on out here?" His voice slices through me, the previous calm has now been replaced with a thickening sense of dread. I flinch instinctively, my heart rate speeding up.

"I am just gardening," I replied keeping my tone even, though the bile in the back of my throat is threatening to come up, "I just thought I'd come help the flowers."

"Help the flowers?" He scoffs taking a few steps closer towards me causing me to shrink away as the sight of his brows furrowing with anger. "You really think coming out here at midnight and playing in the dirt is going to change anything with those wilted things? You think that is enough effort to fix what is dead?"

I open my mouth to respond, the words get caught in my throat noticing the way he keep clenching his fist. The familiar sting of tears set in my eyes, the sting I always get when he raises his voice at me. It has been two years since mother passed, and I still haven't learned how to navigate the jagged edges of our grief. One wrong word and I'm spending a full moon cycle in the basement with nothing but stale bread and rats for company.

"Father, I'm not just playing," I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I am trying to take care of mothers garden.. take care of this place... our home."

"Home?" He laughs out, the harsh, bitter sound filling the air causing me to hold my breath. "You think this garden is still apart of our home? It's just weeds and dirt Penelope, just like you're the reminder of what I lost."

My chest tighten at his words feeling like he just punched my in the stomach, a cold wave of hurt rushes over me, "I am trying to honor her memory!" I shouted my frustration getting the best of me. "I wish you would want that too!"

His face twists in anger as he strides toward me, "You have no idea what you are talking about! You think you can just pretend everything is all right, come out to this waste of space, play in the dirt and pretend your mother is here with you?" He swiftly grabs me by my throat holding tight enough to leave bruises but not tight enough to block my airflow completely spit flying out of his mouth as he begins yelling at me. "You are just a child playing at being an adult when you have never been out of this backyard. Never seen anything beyond this house and the garden. You don't know what's out there little girl but if you keep this up you are about to." He snarls at me as he lets me go and I fall to the ground on all fours grasping at my throat.

The sting of his words cut me deep, igniting something inside me that I couldn't quite understand. A strange warmth rises within me a heat that swirled like a storm, filling my chest. I want to fight back, I want to make him see and understand the depth of my pain.

"Why can't you just let me grieve!" I scream the feeling overpowering my senses, "Why do you have to take it out on me?" My voice shakes with so much emotion it feels as if the ground beneath me is shaking with as much rage as I feel.

"Your little garden is not going to make either of us feel better Penelope. This garden will not fill the hole she left and neither will you. You aren't even our real daughter." My world starts to spin at his words, he spits at the ground in font of me where I am kneeling before turning around and leaving.

Mother would have told me. He has to be lying just because he hates me. I grab my long blonde hair and look at it, its a stark contrast from everyones in my family. My purple eyes they say was just a genetic mutation. Could it really be?

As he turns and walks into the house I can do nothing other than scream allowing every ounce of that built up warmth free. A spark ignites in me, racing through my veins like wildfire. Memories of every insult thrown at me, every threat rolling off his tongue with ease, "You aren't even our real child." My ears are ringing my palms pressing into the damp soil feeling every piece of dirt covering my hands and by the time I'm finished I look up to see my house is crumpled to the ground looking as if a tornado had ran through in the mere seconds I let my pent up anger free. "What the fuck?" Is all I can mange to get out before my vision starts fading as stars work their way into my vision, i feel weightless, my body feeling as if it's not my own I turn over to my side hearing muffled voices coming from the clearing next to the woods, "What the fuck is right girl, what are you?" a mans voice says echoing through my ears as my wold turns pitch black.