Once upon a time

Chapter 1: Fairytales don't exist

I entered my favourite antique bookstore, trying to forget last night. The smell of books fill me and I feel safe, well safer. "Why good morning, Madison! You're rather early, today." Mr. Phillips commented. I offer him a small smile and replied, "Good morning, Mr. Phillips." I take a breath to calm myself, which never works.

Never. I started to scan the shelves, trying to lose myself. Mr. Phillips was my only friend. He lent me books and talked to me. I sighed and sat down. The memories of last night were haunting me. Mum had come home, drunk and angry. Just when I thought it was going to be okay. Who was I even trying to convince?

"Get down here, you selfish murderer! You killed your father! Do you think that I'm stupid?" she screamed at me. May was hiding in the cupboard, shivering. I stood there, trying to stay strong for May. For me.
Mum raises her hand and I am pushed out of the way.

I hear the loud sound of mum's hand on . . . May's cheek. NO. No. NOO. May. My sister. I freeze, shocked. I sit there like a statue, my brain repeatedly trying to comprehend what had just occurred.
I gaze at the ugly red handprint on May's smooth pale cheek.

May has tears in her eyes. Mum straightens up and leaves without another word. Coming to senses, I dash over to her, sobbing. "May. I'm so sorry. What were you thinking?" I cried, holding her close. She sniffs and buries her little face into my neck. "Maddie, I didn't want you to get hurt, again. Like last time." she mumbled.

I hold her, tighter. My heart breaks into pieces at her tone. "Oh, May. Don't you ever try to pull a stunt like this ever again!" I remarked, looking at her red cheek. I brush my fingers on her cheek and she winces. It's going to be a bruise. My heart throbs painfully in my chest.

I had failed to protect the one thing I loved, my little sister. I failed her. It was all my fault.

It was truly all my fault. My father had died trying to get me an ice cream that I wanted. In a indirect way, I killed my father. My father was gone because of me. My mother's love for me died the day my father died.
I had lost both of my parents. My happy parents lost forever.

My mother's pain and sorrow. May's fear of people. Our unpaid debts.
Everything, I destroyed my family for being so selfish.
All of a sudden, a book falls off the shelf and hits me on the head. Ouch!

I rub my head, smiling sadly. See, even this book thinks so. I carefully pick the book up from the floor.I catch my breath. It's gorgeous. Swirls cover its worn spine and beautiful design on the front. I trace my finger on the design. It's not covered in dust but it's not new. It's timeless. It's so beautiful. It's just so tempting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" says Mr. Phillips, stating my thoughts aloud. I turn around, startled by his sudden appearance. "It is. May I take a look?" I asked, hesitantly. Something about it made me feel . . . what's the word? Unsettled. "Sure. But this book is unlike any book." he warns me, with a suspicious look in his eyes.

But unfortunately my curiosity overcomes my fear and I gently stroke the cover, my fingers tingling with excitement. All of sudden, I hear the door slam open. I know who it is by the sound of the footsteps. Mum.
Quickly, I shut the book and put it into my bag. I head to the door, trying to escape, before I can be found.

"Bye Mr. Phillips!" I called, reaching for the rusty doorknob. Mr. Phillip gives me a grin and disappears to the back of the store. "Where do you think you're going?" a voice sneers. I pray, but I know there's no hope.
I turn around, just wishing it wasn't Mum. But my life isn't some sort of fairytale. It's reality. That's right, reality.

Mum is there, her face full of hatred. And just like that reality slaps me right in my face. I should have known. "Where were you? You worthless child." she hisses as she approaches me. I take a step back as she gives me a look full of disgust. Her hand quickly snatches my wrist and she pulls me to her side.

I cry out in pain as she digs her nails into my wrist. "Why?" I whispered, brokenly.
"You know why." she snaps, dragging me away from the bookstore.
She opens the door to our house and drags me into my tiny room.

"Mum, please." I whimpered as she dug her nails even deeper into my skin. Her grip loosens and she snaps her head in my direction. She starts to shake in rage. "WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME? HOW DARE YOU! YOU VILE CHILD. YOU'RE NO CHILD OF MINE!" Her voice echoes throughout the house. I shiver at her tone.

She yanks my bag off and tosses it onto the bed. She opens the closet and grabs a brown belt with a metal buckle. There isn't a single trace of love in her eyes. The sight breaks my heart. My own mother despises me. Despise doesn't even cover it. She hates me, she is disgusted with my existence.

All because of me, what I did. I lost my father and mother on the same day. Tears fill my eyes and threaten to spill over. After all, tears don't wash the pain away. "IT WAS YOUR FAULT! AND YOU WILL PAY. YOU DESERVE THIS. YOU FUCKING BITCH" she screeches, swinging the belt across my back.

I clench my teeth in pain as the belt hits me, again and again.
I don't dare to fight back or say anything. For I know she is right.
"YOU DESERVE THIS!" she says, again and again.

I deserve this.