Scarred Roses

Chapter nine: how to repair hurt feelings

Chapter nine is here guys. Although this story hasn't gotten many reads so far it is slowly picking up and so I'd like to thank those new readers for that. I hope you all enjoy what's to come and please, if you like this story give it a vote and/or a comment telling me what you think :)

"Audrey!" Dread sank in as I turned on the light. Audrey was already dressed in her nightgown, but clearly hadn't been sleeping. "I was just-"

"Oh, save it! You know, I should've wondered just what you've been doing, this past month; where you've been sneaking off to. I should've noticed my little sister's barely here anymore! So what do I find when I wait for you to come home, but the boy who showed up on our doorstep like a beaten, little gutter-rat? How could you, Hazel? He hurt you and now, you're screwing him?!"

"No! Audrey, it's never been like that. I know I lied to you, and I'm sorry but-"

I think I heard it, more than I felt it. The loud, sharp slap, like the slamming of a door, almost hurting my ears. The rest? Well, the rest was nothing new. I was long since used to physical pain, a mere slap on the face was nothing.

"Do you know how wrong it is? How sick it is?! He's grooming you, you know, teaching you to be his own, personal whore. What's this, hmm?" She tipped out the contents of the treasure box on my bed, thrusting the little perfume bottle in my face. "Did he give it to you? Do you wear it when you're letting him fuck you? Marguerite Ottoman was given perfume and chocolate from her soldier-friends; what do you think she did to earn them? I bet she showed you a few of her tricks."

"Audrey, no! He's different, we're different-"

"You're sick, you know that? Sick and deluded! Mama and papa should've locked you up years ago! Always crying, always whimpering like a beaten dog, dragging us down with you, well no more! If they won't have you put away, I will!"

"No!"

No more cowering, no more crying. No more being told I was something I knew I'd never be!

"What did you say to me?" She whispered, her voice dangerously low.

"You heard me-I won't be shut away in some asylum and I will not be called a whore!"

"Oh, but you are are a whore-and a weak one of that. Now that I think about it, maybe I shouldn't have gone looking for you that night at the party. Maybe I was just breaking up some really good fun."

I didn't just feel angry now-I felt sick. She knew it was a weak-spot for me, and she was using it to her very advantage.

"Get out," I hissed, on the verge of crumbling. "Go, before I say something I'll regret."

"I'd like to see you try!" She scoffed, "you're disgusting, you stupid, little whore."

She spat those three words with such venom, like bullets. I was going to tell her, in my own way, in my own words. I'd explain to her that we didn't mean for it to happen; I'd found someone I could talk to, trust and care for as much as I did my own family. I'd expect her to be angry at first, realise that I was truly happy with this friendship, then congratulate me on finding a companionship as close as her as Thomas's was. We would bond over that-we could've bonded over that. But she found out in the worst way possible, and now she really does hate me. Oh god, what have I done?

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Audrey didn't speak to me since that evening. She got up early to get her share of the work done, then disappeared a few minutes before noon, taking an overnight satchel with her. She didn't tell me where she was going-not even a note was kind enough for her 'whore' of a sister. She just disappeared, and I doubted she'd be coming back tonight.