𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎

I was five, and Bianca was seven. My mother had curled my hair that morning, tying half of it up with a bow and letting the other half fall down my shoulders.

Bianca was holding my doll above her head, laughing at me as I tried to reach for it. She chucked it across the room and laughed.

"Stop it, Bianca!" I begged, tears forming in my eyes.

"It's just a doll," she taunted, clutching a strand of my hair and yanking it. "You're being ridiculous."

"You're mean," I shot at her.

The two of us starting fighting, throwing weak hits and kicks. My father stormed into the room; anger was written across his face.

"Stop it, both of you!" he yelled. He grasped me and yanked me up. "You stupid little girl, always causing chaos. Being a nagging little bitch about everything."

He dragged me out of the room, taking me into the next one. He turned to me, and I was instantly terrified by the look in his eye.

He gripped my hair in his hand, ruining my curls as he held my head steady. He smacked me in the face over and over again. I cried out, trying to drag myself away, but his grip was too strong, and he wouldn't stop.

I saw Bianca staring through the doorway, with wide eyes, looking as if she felt guilty for provoking me.

"Stop it, please," my mother cried, rushing over and picking me up.

I sobbed, and she shushed me, stroking my hair. I hid my face in her shoulder, and she kissed the top of my head.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It was my sixth birthday, and I was sitting with Emmaline on the couch, resting my head on her shoulder.

"Emmaline, your mother is going to take you, Aaron, and Ella into town to go shopping," my father informed her.

Emmaline's grip on my hand tightened, and I could tell she didn't want to leave me alone. The two of us could always communicate without needing to speak.

"But I want to stay with Rora," she argued.

"Emmaline!" he snapped, and we both flinched. "Go. She is waiting for you in the car."

She stared at me, her eyes bright with tears. I shrugged, telling her I would be okay without saying a word. She left, and I was left alone with my father.

"You told her," he said quietly. I shook my head, fear taking over my body now that Emmaline was gone.

"No!" I promised, tears stinging my eyes. "No, I didn't. I swear."

But he could always tell when I was lying. He sighed, shaking his head. I could see in his eyes that I would regret telling her. I was sure this birthday would be much worse than the last three.

--

It had been much worse than the previous years. He had been more aggressive, he'd put so much more strength behind the strikes. I was sure I had been sliced to the bone.

By the time he was done, the whip was so embedded into my skin, he'd had difficulty yanking it out. I wasn't sure how I was still conscious.

I was now sitting in my room, shaking, and sobbing. I was too scared to go to my mother. She would fix me up, but she would be so upset. And she would cry. She always cried.