Addicted (OITNB)

44- Happy Easter

A/N

I am very aware that it is pretty much impossible for it to be Easter when we just had Christmas Mother's Day, but for the sake of it being Easter in real life just go along with it.

Happy Easter everyone! By the time this chapter goes up Easter will have already passed in Australia so I hope you all have a wonderful Easter surrounded by loved ones and chocolates. 💞

WHEN I WAS eight years old, I had my first Easter egg hunt. Yes, it took eight years to finally celebrate Easter, and looking back at it now I realize my mother's intentions.

"Millie, where's my Barbie's dog?" I had barged into my little sister and I's shared bedroom. It was tiny, actually it was practically all bed. However, right in front of the closet was a small empty space that Millie and I could set up our dollhouses.

Millie, six at the time, turned around with wide eyes and in her hand was the miniature puppy with a pink bow on its head. Me, being a mature child, didn't get angry. In fact, I was relieved that it wasn't lost. We didn't have much toys. Our only form of entertainment was our dolls and a soccer ball.

"Can I please have it back?" I asked with manners, something Millie lacked especially at a young age.

Millie tugged her hand towards her, concealing the toy in her tiny fists. "I want."

I frowned, knowing this was going to be harder than I thought.

"Can I have it back later?" I tried.

"No."

"Millie, give it back. Please!"

Millie screamed when I stepped closer, and I quickly stepped back.

"Stop! Just give it back it's mine!" There was only so much I could take.

When Millie continued to refuse, I pounced. I ignored her screams as I wrestled her flat on the ground and tried my hardest to unravel her fist. She was strong for a six year old.

Then, as dreaded, the bedroom door creaked open. We both froze as our mother, Jocelyn, towered over us. If there was one thing we could both agree on was that Jocelyn was terrifying. She wasn't how she was when she visited me in prison- all pleading and gentle. No, Jocelyn was a terrible mother who would rather spend money on herself than her children. Everything we owned was either a gift from our grandmother before she passed away or was found abandoned on the streets, but we were grateful for it all.

And when Jocelyn got mad, she got mad.

"What's going on here?" Jocelyn asked, her piercing green eyes stabbing us. Millie and I had no resemblance to her. I looked like my father, who was Mexican and Millie's 'father' also happened to be Hispanic. Even though Millie and I didn't have the same father, we still considered ourselves full sisters.

Sometimes, I would forget that Jocelyn was my mother and think that some Caucasian women from the supermarket kidnapped me.

"There better be a good reason for all the noise."

I had tears in my eyes. For an eight year old, I sure was scared and frustrated.

"Millie took my dog." I confessed. Millie stared at me as if I had betrayed her- and I had. But I didn't intend for it to get her in trouble. I just thought that maybe Jocelyn would be gentler if she knew that the reason we were fighting was minuscule.