Dreams Come True

Hopeless Changing

It was the late afternoon, and Zoe knew she needed to get home to make dinner. She was on the bench in the park after having just been cutting the crass for the last few hours. Her sketchbook had been tucked away in her satchel before she left the house, so now that her work was done, she took what little free time she had left to enjoy her one passion - drawing. She had a photographic memory which helped her to draw in extreme detail, a skill she took pride in. 

Suddenly, a large dog jumped on her, licking her face and whining playfully. He was grey with tuffs of white fur on his chest and around his ears. Though she knew he meant no harm, she let out a startled scream and jumped off the bench to run away only to run into someone. 

"Whoa! Careful! That's the second time this week," the woman exclaimed in an almost amused tone. 

Zoe was shaking both out of shock from the dog and the bigger terror of  bumping into this woman yet again. "S-sorry," she managed. "The dog..." 

"Oisin! Down!" the woman commanded. The dog immediately jumped down from the bench and came to sit obediently by the woman's side. The name rang a bell in Zoe's head, but her terror overrode it. 

She looked down at her watch and gasped. "Oh, no! I'm so late! Mistress is going to kill me!" She grabbed her satchel and took off down the path, briefly glancing back and the dog over her shoulder. "Sorry again for bumping into you," she called.

"'Mistress'?" the mysterious woman echoed. Zoe's eyes widened further, and she prayed to God the woman didn't figure it out. 

She quickly snuck in through the kitchen window and hurried to spoon their salads into bowls before running to set the table. She has two more minutes to finish before she had officially not completed a task in the designated time. She was three seconds late ringing the dinner bell, and the look on Sasha's face told Zoe exactly what the rest of the evening would entail for her. 

Trigger Warning

With a sort of horrified grim acceptance, she quickly cleaned up the kitchen before obediently going to her mother's room, stripping, and laying face down on the whipping table. Her scars from the day before were still extremely fresh, and Zoe could feel them sting in anticipation of what she was about to endure. 

"Good girl," Sasha purred as she stalked into the room a few minutes later. She carelessly lifted the whip from its mount on the wall and cracked it a few times just for good measure. Zoe did not flinch. She knew from experience that it never ended well for her if she did. 

The first last wasn't so bad. The sting was painful but bearable when taking into account that it was dealt right on top of countless other scars. Zoe had become fairly accustomed to immense pain, and though the treatment still wasn't good, that made it a lot easier on her. 

Zoe let her mind drift from her body until the words of release were said. When her consciousness returned, she felt the excruciating pain and the wet sensation of blood dripping down her back and into the black carpet. Sasha left the room, allowing her to wrap her torso in bandages coating in medicine before redressing and hurrying to her room. Once secure there, she lay down in the bed and carefully reached over to turn the lights off. 

Now, most children would have cried. They would have mourned the love missing from their lives, but Zoe did not. She had long grown used to this treatment and had accepted her situation for what it was and with little hope for it to change. Instead, she drifted off into a light and uneasy sleep, unaware that everything was about to change.