bored ‖ dandy mott

1.0

"Yeah, yeah. Quiet honey, I've got a bad headache," Her Mother's eyes squinted at the light, she rubbed them profusely.

The young girl frowned and nodded her head, quietly taking the empty seat at the table. Knowing that her parents wouldn't make her breakfast, her eyes darted around the kitchen thinking of her first meal of the day. Instead of seeing any food, she saw beer bottles littered all over the counter.

Her parents arguing only grew louder and louder. But she knew how to block it out, well drown it out with her thoughts.

"You know, everything would be so much better without this little shit and her sister taking up this house. They don't do anything, just walk around and moan. Why should they get food when they don't even lift a finger around this place?" Her Dad's voice thundered, his hand now gripped on Y/n's pyjama shirt, roughly pulling her forwards, "How do you feel about that, huh? You ungrateful bitch,"

The strong stench of vodka radiated off of his breath, filling the girl's nostrils. She flinched backwards in shock and almost fell off the chair. A gasp escaped her lips.

Her Mother quickly came to her defence, "Please, don't, she hasn't done anything, she's just a kid,"

"Just a kid my ass," He snorted, raising his fist and connecting it with the girl's ribcage in a forceful manner.

She yelped out in pain, stumbling to the floor and clutching her stomach.

Her Mother quickly stood up from the table and stood between the young girl and her Father.

The Father took it into his own hands and started to project his anger onto his wife.

The girl sat there helplessly. She hugged her knees, salty tears inched their way past her chapped lips and onto her swollen tongue. All she wanted was a happy family. She just wanted them to stop.

Every time she heard her Mother yelp in pain it filled her with more anger. Who gave this man the right to do that? It wasn't right. And what wasn't right had to be taken care of.

A knife was on the table. A bread knife, in particular. The unhappy couple were too busy to notice but Y/n managed to get her hands on it.

It felt so familiar once it was in her hands. It was like a sense of relief. A blanket of safety.

After her mother had been beaten to black and blue, her father turned to her. She'd be his next victim, but definitely not the last. Her sister was innocently upstairs, tucked away into her bed. 

When Y/n's Father's hand was up against her neck, the knife she'd been hiding was held firmly in her grasp and she struck it towards the ceiling. It hit his throat.

He deserved it, she repeated to herself over and over again. This was the only way to make him stop.

It was only when the blade dug deep into his throat when she felt it. The sharp pang of satisfaction. It was almost as if a bullet had hit her chest, her head spiralled with thoughts. What was this feeling? It couldn't possibly be joy?

Her father was dead and all she could think about was the feeling she had from it.

No, she repeated to herself, she was devastated. Of course she'd be, she had just killed a man.

"What have you done?" Her Mother shrieked, standing back in shock.

Y/n's hands trembled as she realised what she had done. The knife fell to the floor causing the sound to ripple against the walls.

She gulped, almost lost for words, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to,"

"You killed him," Her Mother repeated the words, each time getting louder and louder, "I raised you better than this! You're an abomination,"

"Mom, please," Tears pricked at the corner of the young girl's eyes.

"I can't even look at you anymore, I'm not your Mother,"

"Please, I'm just a child," She choked out, her throat was dry from sobbing.

Her Mother reported the murder to the police but said it was a home invasion. Even after the horrific act her child had committed, she couldn't bear her entire future being thrown away. She attempted to get her institutionalized to a place called Briarcliff Manor, though they didn't have a children's ward. After that, Y/n was sent to an orphanage that had no information about her past whatsoever. She only stayed there for two years, though it was much better than her previous life. It wasn't great but it was better.

They could legally throw her out at sixteen so that's what they aimed to do. Though, a week before her sixteenth birthday a woman came looking for a child.

The woman, who was named Eudora Tattler, couldn't care less about the age. All she said was that she wanted someone normal.

In a desperate hurry, they gave her Y/n.