A World of our Own | K.TH *COMPLETED*

Sent Away

"Send her away."

My heart stops at my stepmother's words, brutal and colder than the touch of winter. She's been at this for months, trying to kick me out of the house that I've lived in longer than her. Ever since my father married her and left the memories of my real mother behind like it was nothing but dust, my life had been close to bordering hell itself.

Once I had been a normal girl, bathing in love that my mother and father showered over their only child. My mother had taught me kindness, humility, and how to love others. She'd showed me love, so I may show it to others in return. She'd made me the girl that needed nothing else except for her and her care.

But now that was old news, a thing in the past. Everything had changed when she died in a car crash, on her way home from a stupid meeting my father had forced her to attend.

And I mean everything.

First in step was my father. He grieved for her for not even a second, accepting the news with a grave expression that I know for a fact he faked. And not even a day later, he'd found himself a new devil wife to match his devil personality. And then any traces of love he held for me blew themselves away in the wind that also blew away my mother's ashes.

Believe it or not, that wasn't even the worst part.

The first thing my new stepmother did after moving into my home was to ask my father to send me to an orphanage. She'd taken one look at my bloodied eyes, still teary from the night before, and had decided to beat the living daylights out of me.

And my father did nothing except watch as his stupid wife carved cuts into my arms, bruises on my back. He never took part in the beatings I received daily, but always just stood by and watched.

And somehow that made it even worse, the fact that he did nothing at all when this intruder was putting her hands all over the only daughter he had, the last memory of the wife he'd apparently loved.

I still remember the day before that meeting when he'd kissed her cheek and bid her a safe trip, a fake smile hanging loosely over his thin lips. Maybe he'd wanted her to die that day. And maybe he'd rejoiced the moment he heard the news of her death.

But no matter how much I hate the two, I don't want to be sent away. This house contains so much, memories snuggled in every nook and cranny of its walls. Besides, I've heard so many terrifying stories of orphanages that it's become reality in my brain. Already nightmares haunt me, those imaginations coming true during the night.

But my father, no matter how much he is a brutal, unloving man, never allowed me to be sent away. I think he still held a shred of responsibility in his frozen heart that prevented him from shipping me off to somewhere faraway like Madagascar or Mount Everest.

I wait for the usual shake of the head, or a firm no at my stepmother's desperate pleas. But this time, it's not what I expect. This time, it's different.

"I have an apartment ready for her."

What?

My body moves instinctively as I rush out the door, expression twisted in shock and disbelief. The moment I step into the room, their stone cold gazes seem to snatch life itself from me.

"What do you mean by that? You can't be serious— you can't send me away!"

It's absolutely unbelievable how people these days can be so heartless, so cruel. I'm still struggling to register his approval to my sentencing as my stepmother snorts dramatically. She was always so self-centered. It was pretty clear that she loved herself more than her sorry excuse of a husband.

"Mind yourself, girl," She grits her teeth, raising her hand to slap me. The red print from just a few hours ago has yet to fade away from her last strike. "No one asked for your opinion, did they?"

I brace for the hit when amazingly, it doesn't come. My father is holding my mother's wrist, ignoring her seething face. Just because he just saved me from a slap doesn't mean his voice is suddenly all unicorns and rainbows, either.

"You will mind yourself. You should be grateful to me and your mother for getting you this apartment— it did cost us money." His gaze is steel as he tugs a key ring from his back pocket, tossing it over to me carelessly.

The metal is cold against my palm as I close my fingers over the small set of keys.

"I'm only going to say this once, so you better listen carefully." Then my father lists out the address— 123 Snowfall Glen Apartments— and tells me that the apartment number is inscribed onto the keys.

"And you will leave without causing any trouble. Do you understand?"

My voice sounds tired and defeated as I whisper, my hands fidgeting over the ring of keys on my palm. This house I've lived in for my seventeen years— gone forever.

"I understand."