HELPLESS | KLAUS MIKAELSON

CHAPTER TWO

WARNING: this chapter contains racial slurs and racially motivated hatred. Read with caution.

1820 NEW ORLEANS, LA

By the time we arrived in New Orleans the sun sat high in the sky, it was the day of my brothers funeral and it appeared that the home I had grown up in was already bustling with people trying to prepare for the sorrowful day ahead.

The door to the carriage was pulled open and my husband exited first before he turned back and held out a hand to help me make my descent. As I stepped down from the carriage Louis pulled me close and out of the corner of my eye I noticed my father, his gaze firmly set on me, a frown rested on his face.

"I swear to you he can not hurt you anymore, not while I'm here" Louis muttered into my ear softly before placing a gentle kiss at my hairline and after that we walked toward my father.

"Just in time" Was the first thing my father said to me as we made our approach, no love or even fondness shown towards me as he looked me up and down in what I could only describe to be dismay "you'd better have a maid dress you, you can not show up to your brothers funeral looking as you do"

"I have my own maid father, Zola will help me and I will be ready with time to spare" I nearly snapped trying with all of my might to hold all of the anger bubbling inside of me just as my maid and closest friend approached and stood to my side only for my brother to give her a disgusted glance.

"A nigga, of course you always did have a fondness for their kind" My father snarled almost foaming at the mouth, just as I made a move to snap back Louis placed a gentle hand to my arm and ushered me off with Zola to prepare.

Nothing was spoken between the two of us as we walked to my childhood bedroom, I couldn't think what to say in order to apologise for my father and all that I was so sure she would face in our time here, perhaps I should have left her at home in New York, but of course I was far too selfish for my own good. Zola was truly the only person in the world who truly knew me, who truly accepted me and loved me. She truly was my closest friend and confidante. As we walked I took the chance to peer at her, anything she was thinking didn't display on her beautiful coffee toned face but I knew that what my father had spat had hurt her, she'd faced hatred and abuse had been hurled at her from the moment she was born into the world and I wished more than anything I could shield her from it all.

But alas I said nothing. The inside of my childhood bedroom was much the same as it had been the last time I had been in here, of course no longer cluttered by my belongings but it still contained the same bed, the same curtains still hung in front of the windows, my vanity still sat exactly where I had left it. It was almost like stepping ten years back in time.

"Has he always been so vile towards you miss Daphne?" Zola finally asked breaking the silence that had settled between us.

"Vile towards me? The vileness that he spits at me is nothing in comparison to what he just spat at you" I asked shocked before I rested my right hand on top of her left, my pale skin contrasting compared to her dark skin.

"The white man is always vile to me miss, you know that but no man should ever be so towards his own daughter" Zola softly returned.

"He used to love me I think but by the time I was finished here any love he contained had turned to bitter hatred, though I think his hatred is worth what I have in it's place" I hesitantly admitted smiling at the thought of what was just on the other side of the plantation.