We've updated our Content Guidelines.
Review the latest guidelines to keep sharing stories safely.

PROLOGUE

438 12 9
                                        


The first time you saw her, you must've been around age four

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

The first time you saw her, you must've been around age four.

It had only been a moment, but a moment enough to stop your crying. Something about her was soothing enough to stop. Invading, yet slow enough not to frighten, a soft warmth made itself at home. Pain was less.

It hadn't been the first time Mommy had struck you.

You had felt lonely that day, playing by yourself. So when Mom came home, you ran to her feet and held tightly onto her skirt. You wanted her to hug you and play with you.

It almost made her trip—grocery bags falling, eggs cracking...

She was furious as she slapped you to the floor. A hot sting on your cheek left you stunned. Then you felt the pain, the one growing all around.

That's when you started to whine. She was kicking you, you realized

"Stupid little shit, why can't you behave? Do you know how much food costs?" She didn't pause the beating. "If you keep being so careless, I might as well sell you to the highest bidder, you ungrateful little bitch."

She had her angry moments.

Money.

You realized.

Mommy is so angry because of money.

If only she had more...

That's what you understood back then.

"Mommy—ah, stop!" You cried. "Hurts, Mo-mmy. Hurts. No! Please, I'm-ah, sorry-" Tears ran and felt cold against your hot cheeks.

One of her pretty necklaces was used as a weapon, one that whipped your skin.

"Shut up, brat- SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I WILL GIVE YOU REASONS TO CRY ABOUT—" She yelled, making you feel smaller than you were.

"Hurts!" You yelped in pain.

You wanted someone to stop her, someone to hug you, someone to make the hurt go away.

You wished your mom wasn't so angry so much. So tired. So sad. You wanted to make it better. To make her feel better.

You made yourself tiny, hugging your legs and bending your knees up to your chest; that's the way it hurt less.

Hearing something breaking, like glass, you let out a yelp.

Bones?

You thought. You saw it on TV. Bones could crack.

The air shifted. Electric. Fear reached you, yet you couldn't run, couldn't stand up.

There was something else there.

You could feel it.

And you wanted to look up.

The Rose & The Hat [Rose The Hat/Female Reader Oc] [Doctor Sleep]Stories to obsess over. Discover now