Soul Sisters

Chapter 2 Daddy Issues

Chapter 2 Daddy Issues

Sona P.O.V

I’m not gonna say it didn’t hurt.

Because that would be lying.

It hurt like fire, man he was strong.

But it wasn’t the force of the punch that had made me cry, it was the person who did it.

It’s not like he was ever the best father. Too caught up in his own business to care about me. But he had never hit me. Ever. Neglect was all I ever got from him.

After it happened, the room went silent. Not that there was many people in there. But still, my mother was a talker, and she only ever went silent when, when…..well never.

“Go clean up. I don’t want anyone seeing that there bruise.” I heard him barley whisper to me, the slight western twang in his voice becoming obvious.

I climbed the stairs slowly, making sure not to create unnecessary noise. I was never the best daughter, I have to say. But that had always been the least of our worries. We lived in the second poorest part of town, and I was more concerned on finding work to support the family then spending time with my father.

My first job was as a scullery maid, for a wealthy family. I remember standing in front of the house, terrified of going inside. But my dad just pushed me forward,

“Well, go on then!” He said as I stared up at him. I was only 6, what was I supposed to do.

For months the other servants made fun of me because of my accent, which gave away instantly as someone of a lower class. They mocked me, even though they were only a little more well off then myself.

I looked into the mirror to discover a bruise was beginning to form over my left eye. I took out my sister’s concealer and spread it over my eye with my fingers, trying to cover up the bruise the best I could. Even after three layers, the purple color of the blow still was slightly visible.

“Hon, we got to go down to the stop soon!” I heard my mother yell from downstairs. I sighed, this was the best I could do for now.

I lightly opened the door and padded out into our withered hallway. The walls were cover taped up family pictures and news articles. Every time a new hole placed itself inside of our decaying walls, it was my sister’s job to cover them up.  And being the lazy butt she is, well. I think you know.

I stepped into the light of our only window and allowed the sunlight to drape over my body, warming me up in the terribly insulated house. I stretched out like a cat and my golden hair almost reflected the suns light.

I took a step back from the wall, looking for an article that wasn’t familiar. I loved to read all of the different stories taped up to that wall. I was the closest I had ever gotten to books. As a breeze rustled through the gaps between newspaper and wall, blowing one article off the crippled surface.

It flew through the air, flapping like a bird in the wind. Nearing the window.

Oh No.

I ran to the window throwing it closed, before chasing after the article. I grabbed wildly at the air, trying to catch the floating piece of newspaper. We didn’t get the paper again till next week, so there would be nothing to patch up the walls.

After a proud display of my not-so-coordinated-skills I finally felt my hand grasp the fine paper of the article. I brought it down to my eyes, it was recent, and that was for sure. I looked for the headline, ready to start my read. But there was none.

Why?

Because this wasn’t an article, it was a WANTED poster. I scanned over the face of the girl on the flyer. She was so familiar, yet so unknown. I felt as though I saw her face in the mirror every day, but she didn’t resemble me. She had pale skin, while mine was tanned, she had fiery red hair, while mine was golden and sun touched. And her eyes, wait, her eyes.