To Torture a Duckling- Continuation

Chapter 2

Her figure was a tapestry of childhood memories, most of them unpleasant. A large burn in the center of her palm, a scar near her hairline, slash marks along her back. Not all bad, however. Her long, almost white, hair and freckled skin were an homage to her mother. She had only the faintest memory of her. Her loving embrace and kind eyes were lost to time. But a glance in the mirror gave a faint feeling of nostalgia.

She was tormented by Ransom all of her childhood, allowed by the neglect of her would-be father and stepmother. Ransom hated her simply for existing. No matter the fact that he had everything he could ever want, while she got nothing. He was chauffeured to school, while she rode the bus. He was given five-star meals, while she either made her own or went hungry. He was allowed stacks of cash, while she never so much received a birthday gift.

It would've been easy to be bitter, to become callous and rude. And she would've turned that way if it hadn't been for Harlan. He took her in and gave her the love, she attempted to no longer crave.

-----------------

She was born on a hot summer day in the sweltering heat. The short time she lived with her mother, they spent most days on the beach. They basked in the sun and dug their toes into the sand. They floated in salty waters and were lulled by the caws of seagulls. Her new family lived up north. Summer days were scarce and the beach was filled with rocks. The ocean was always cold and the seagulls shrill. Most of her days were spent alone, smothered by the cold snow.

----------------

One particular summer, the Drysdale's went on vacation. They pretended to have just enough funds to pay for 3 and not a bit more. She was sent on a bus to her grandfather's, whom she had only met a handful of times. She spent the 2-hour ride shaking from nerves. How was she to know if the Thrombey's were like her pseudo-parents? She made her exit from the bus and pulled out her suitcase, much too heavy for her tiny arms. All of her important possessions were in that bag. She feared that they would be thrown out or broken if she left them. They might simply clean out her room and claim she had no place there.

Harlan spotted her struggling to drag a suitcase 2x her size. A light sweat had broken out on her brow. However, she persisted, never giving up the nearly impossible task. It made him chuckle.

That summer he spent every day with her. She slowly came out of her shell. He paid her attention, cooked her meals, and made her laugh, which she hadn't done in years. One special summer day, she awoke filled with sadness. She knew it was her birthday, however, she expected nothing. She made her way down the stairs, skipping the one that creaks, and sat at the table, where breakfast was already waiting. She bid good morning to Harlan and began to chow down.

Slowly, a rectangular box with a bow slid into her view. She eyed it wearily, surely it wasn't for her. When she was done eating, she went to pick up her plate and take it to the sink, when Harlan interrupted and asked if she was going to open it. She was shocked that it was for her. She delicately opened the box to reveal a sparkling golden locket. Harlan explained that it was to keep memories inside and carry them close to her heart.

----------------

It was the same locket she twirled while waiting to be questioned by the police. Inside of one side was a picture of Harlan and the other, reserved for her mother. The times had changed so much from when she first received that locket. She was, once again, completely alone.