'I know I can treat you better, than he can
And any girl like you deserves a gentleman'
A girl with demons. A boy with a bad reputation. A boy soon to be corrupted.
Ivy is a girl who finds the devil at every doorstep. Demons surround her but what w...
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Ivy had woken up in a familiar place. It felt foreign, but she knew exactly where she was. In her own bedroom, in her father's house.
Light cut through the net curtains and casted strange shadows onto the plain walls. Her bed was just as she remembered it, warm and comforting. The covers had been lifted up under her chin and she knew exactly who put her there. He had always done the same thing, ever since she was a child. Whenever the man put his daughter to bed, he pulled the covers up to her chin and tightly tucked her in, "To keep the demons away." He used to whisper in her ear before placing a light kiss on her forehead and leaving her room with the door open by merely an inch. She had always hated the dark.
But times had changed; the demons that were under her bed now plagued her head.
Three small taps sounded at her door. The girl lifted her eyes to look at it before beckoning the person in. It was the maid, "Good morning, Miss Solomons." She was pale and small with a timid aura around her. "Please, call me Ivy." Ivy told the maid with a smile. She nodded, gently accepting the 'order'. "Mr Solomons has summoned you to the dining room. He wishes to have breakfast with you."
'He could've asked me himself.' The girl thought to herself. "Thank you. I'll be down in a minute." She said instead. Ivy pushed the previous thought aside as the maid slipped out of her room to allow her to get dressed. She soon realised that she hadn't brought any clothes with her and the clothes that were left in her wardrobe might be too small. Ivy decided to drag herself out of bed and to the closet. Maybe some of the clothes would still fit? It had only been a few months after all.
She was still in the clothes she wore the day before. The girl smiled at the small parallels between when she actually ran away and now. As fast as she could, she raided the wardrobe and found something to wear before getting dressed and making her way downstairs to the kitchen. Ivy wandered into the kitchen to see servants rushing around the room, frantically trying to make breakfast for the Solomons'. She continued to walk through the kitchen until she got to a tall doorway, the threshold to the dining room.
The room was dimly lit, smoke circled the rafters. A rustic, wooden table sat in the center of the room, chairs dotted around it's perimeter. But, only one of the chairs was filled. At the head of the table sat Alfie Solomons, a newspaper in one hand and a cigar in the other. A teacup rested on the table by his right side but Ivy was sure that the contents of it was not tea. "Good morning, father." Ivy greeted politely. She needed to be cautious around him. If she got too emotional, the truth would come out. The whole truth.
"Ivy, my beautiful daughter. Come and sit." His voice had hints of sarcasm within them but she complied nonetheless. His words were cathartic, they were soft but his voice was harsh like sandpaper.
