Isabella Reed waited in the town square. He was late, the first time in ever. Probably talking to the other girls at the market. She didn’t leave though. She couldn’t leave; her mother would sell her to those retched men. She still wore her virginity ring, although that moment had past years ago. But he still helped her. His mother and her mother were good friends, and they agreed it would be best for her. The lunatic daughter of Elizabeth Reed needed help. She was Gods own sin. He had made her from the Devils blood and flesh, and she was sent to earth to be the crazy girl. Even her mother believed the rumors the townspeople had started. So to ‘help’ her, their mothers wanted Adam King, to watch her, so she could not do anything dark, or harmful.
“Isabella! I’m so sorry I’m late! I got held up at the market, my mother wanted me to get some things.” He said, out of breath from running across the square. I ignored him, as I did most days. I started walking to where he had just come from, towards the market. He followed behind closely, monitoring her every move. When she picked up an apple to examine it, he flinched towards her, as if she were going to steal it or throw it at somebody. Although she thought those things, she did nothing but pay for a dozen of them, then put them in her basket. She had almost finished her shopping, but needed one more thing. She walked on towards the hot soup, in which she saved for last. Fearing that her mother would be angry if she came home with it cold. She paid for it, and then walked towards her house fast. Still Adam followed closely behind, walking her to the porch.
“If you need anything else, go to the square. I will be there most of the day. Goodbye Isabella.” He said, walking the direction we had just come from. I walked into the house, the cries of my siblings hitting my ears immediately.
“Isabella! Come take your sister!” Mother yelled. I walked into the kitchen to see a mess. My sisters had taken my mothers clothes out of her closet, and they were strewn around the house, my brothers had taken everything out of the icebox and pantry, and were now either eating it or feeding it to the cat. My youngest sister, Madeline, was in my mothers’ arms, crying and screaming. I set the groceries down, handing the soup to my mother. I took Madeline and quieted her before putting her in her bassinette. I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, and put the groceries away.
“Isabella. I’m going out tonight, and I’m taking the other kids. There’s a man that wants to meet you. So be nice, and take off your ring. We don’t want him to find out you still have it now, do we?” my mother said. She was evil, and demented. If there was anyway to get money, she would figure it out. She had threatened to kill me once for refusing. Never again did I disobey her. I nodded, and then went to the washroom to get ready. While in the tub, I cried. If my father were here, he would not approve. But alas, he is not. He was murdered by his brother only 4 years ago. The youngest sibling is 1. Who’s the father? Nobody really knows. “Isabella, I’m leaving. He will be here at sundown, please be nice.” She said, before turning and walking out the door. I didn’t want to do this tonight, but I didn’t have a choice. Maybe if I ask Adam to help… No, I couldn’t do that. Mother would beat me further, and then force my 9 year old sister into prostitution. I try and avoid that at all cost; I do not want my sisters in this lifestyle. I heard a knock on the door, and assumed it was the man. I wrapped a towel around my body, and then walked down the stairs. I opened the door and stood wide eyed at the sight before me. Adam was standing in the doorway, staring back at me.
“Adam, you need to go. Before he gets here.” I whispered, pushing him out of the doorframe.
“Who is he? Why are you in nothing but a towel?” he asked
“Please do not worry about me. I’m fine, but you need to leave.” I said, trying to close the door.
“No. I will not leave before you tell me what you are doing!” he said sternly
“Adam, please.” I begged. I saw the man on a horse coming up the road. “Please, you need to go! I will talk to you later!” I said quickly, pushing him away. He turned away without another word and walked around the side of the house, hiding in the shadows until the man passed.
“You! Are you Isabella?” the man said walking onto the porch. I nodded my head, and then hung it in shame. “Come girl, I want to get my moneys worth.” He said grabbing my hand. I pulled him towards the bedroom, where it is always done. The sheets were freshly washed, and the lantern lit. He pushed me on the bed, and it started.
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I walked into the square, spotting Adam instantly. His eyes met mine and he walked towards me in haste, or was it disgust. I couldn’t tell, but as I had many times before, I hung my head in shame.
“Do you mind telling me what happened last night?” he whispered
“Not here.” I said, and then continued walking towards the market.
“Dammit Isabella! God only knows what happened last night!” he yelled, starting to cause a scene.
“Please stop.” I said walking faster
“No. you stop.” He said, grabbing hold of my arm.
“Get off of me!” I screamed. People were staring, and I didn’t like all of the attention on me. “Stay away from me.” I whispered, walking towards the well on the other side of town. I followed along the stone wall, gliding my hand over the top. I wouldn’t shed tears in front of these people. Once I got to the well, I would most likely be alone. It was almost sundown, and most people did their errands during the morning hours. I walked down the path, the wind blowing my black dress behind me. Once I knew I was alone, I sat down by the well and sobbed. I didn’t want to go back home, for Adam would be waiting, and my mother would scold me. Why did they think I was crazy? Was it my auburn hair, or my hate for bright colors? Maybe it was my golden eyes, or the fact that I hated church, or going anywhere near it. It made me feel uncomfortable. Why should I worship the man that damned me to this life of hate? I don’t have satanic ways, other than the prostitution, but that is not my fault. If I could, I would live a happy life. Working in the square, selling milk and cheese from my goat, taking care of my siblings, and getting married and having my own children someday. At this point in my life, this would not be happening ever. No man could ever want me in this state. I am, after all, the devils own daughter.
