Aether

4. Thorn on a Rose

My brain stutters for a moment and my eyes take in more light than I expected, every part of me goes on pause while my thoughts catch up.

"What?" I choked out. "What did you just say?"

"I said you aren't coming to the ball." Her tone matter-of-factly. It was like ice crystals had formed in her eyes from the cold temperatures residing in the dark orbs.

I can't believe her. She thinks this is just some game. "No, not that the other part."

The humor in her eyes is vindictive, mocking. "Which part then Charlotte?"

I take a deep breath in. That woman is testing my patience, and she knows it. She can see my hands curl up into fists, my nails digging into the skin. She can see how rigid my body is. How I'm struggling for control. And she loves it. Knowing she causes me so much pain, it brings her delight.

Ella and Elijah laugh enjoying seeing me under their mother's words.

"The part, step-mother, where you said I wasn't good enough to go to the ball," I grind out from between my clenched teeth. 

I take another deep breath in to calm the pain in my heart. "The part where you keep treating me as if you don't... as if you do not love me."

My voice was small. I'm surprised they even heard me say that at all. It slipped out, how I was feeling. I felt so vulnerable in that moment. All three of them saw me for who I really was, and I hated it. I hated feeling weak, but the feeling was all too familiar. 

She looked at me; her gaze not breaking from my own. "Of course I don't love you fool, how could anyone love a thorn on a rose?"

I felt my throat close up; the tears falling of their own accord through my tightly shut eyes. I stood there, motionless. The hatred in her voice, the utter loath resonating in my ears

Her words stabbing straight to my heart, the last place I want them to be. I felt the pain all around me. Like an icy wind chocking the breath from my lungs, making a noose around my neck. It's savage, bitter blasts cutting right to my bones and gripping my brain in its freezing claws. My heart constricted in its wake as if not sure if it should go on beating. 

She was the only mother figure I had after my own died. Even if she treated me like shit, deep down I know I cared for her. Even if it was a minuscule amount. I kept replaying her words in my head. No one could ever love a thorn on a rose. What did I ever do to deserve them? I had done everything she had ever asked me to do. Everything, even if I really didn't want too, and yet she still found new ways to blame me for things I don't even remember messing up. It's like she created them out of thin air. 

I felt emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that enveloped my mind in swirling blackness.

Then someone touched my shoulder, I don't know who. I didn't care who it was. But it was like someone had flicked a switch. My consuming pain was suddenly being channeled into burning hatred. 

The rage hissed through my body like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off me like ferocious waves. The wrath consumed like, engulfing my moralities and destroying the boundaries of loyalty. It wanted control.

Hate colours the soul. It spreads throughout the entire system, shutting down all other feelings, clouding one's head with only those dark thoughts. All the negative energy that one can muster, is thrown into the imagined ill will racing wildly around the mind. Hatred becomes a sickness of the mind, and of the heart. For where hatred has claimed possession, there is no room for love. Left unchecked, hate can poison the soul.

That's something my Father always used to say. Now that I think about it, it's almost as if he was warning me. Warning me of what the future holds. As that's how I was feeling in this moment. I was losing control, and I loved it.

I raised by head, wiping the tears from my face. I smiled. One that would challenge even the coldest of my step-mothers. I looked her in the eye, daring her to look away. Her brows bunched together in confusion, like she could not recognise me. She gasped and took a step back. 

I did not notice how the light in the room was becoming brighter as if the sun was shining from in the room; I was to busy drowning inside my thoughts of her.

My hatred was like a weapon, one I brandished confidently as I pointed it directly at my step-mother's heart. If she even had one. But that didn't matter. All that did was making her sink to her knees in remorse. For she dare touch me again.

I looked at her, checking for any human emotion. But as I suspected, there was none. So I aimed my weapon and fired the shot.

"In my nights you are a monster and in my days you are the same. There are times I can't tell the nightmare of my reality from the fiction of my nightmares. Sometimes there are clues I only catch in retrospect: the house is different, or you have developed supernatural powers. It doesn't matter at all, you can beat me with the earthly '"gifts' you have. With nonchalant ease you crush every ounce of self worth I glean, failing to disguise how delighted you are to deal your favourite blows. How they are like candy to you, irresistible, moorish. 

"You didn't choose me to love or cherish, but to whip and destroy - for power and malice are your drugs of choice. They light you up inside with a sickly glow that shines in those languid eyes. But you will wish you never laid eyes on me. I'm not some orphaned girl you can just pick on; I am a human being, a soul, a person. A daughter. Could you look me in the eyes and tell me you would never do this to your own children? No, you can't you sick, sadistic person, so why would you do it to me? I did everything you asked me too, and you treat me like some animal to abuse whenever you want. But don't you dare play games with me step-mother. Don't ever, ever think you re capable of that." I say with as much hatred as I can. 

I keep my head high as I exit the room. Not looking over my shoulder. I didn't care how she reacted, only that she got my message.

I was coming for her, and she would never suspect it.

I was going to destroy her.

✧

It was a bit of a short one, but I think it did itself justice. Hopefully the next chapter clears up any confusion. - Ceilidh