The Runt of the Litter

Chapter Three

26th of August 1834

"We can't just pretend she doesn't exist!" Angelica screamed at her husband.

"Yes we CAN!" He yelled, taking a threatening step towards his wife. "We can and we WILL!"

"Can we at least put her in an institution where she will get help?" she sobbed. "Where she isn't so...alone? She's so sad, Michael..."

"What does it matter? Everyone is sad! And why? Because of HER! SHE did this!" Michael roared, hiding his furious face in trembling hands.

"It's not her fault! If we just get her help-"

"Then everyone will know! Everyone will know I have a retard for a child!"

"Don't use that word...please..."

"It's true though, isn't it?!"

"But...but..."

"ISN'T IT?!"

"Yes but if she just got help-"

"I am not putting her in any goddamn institution where mouths will flap! No...better we keep her here where we can make sure no one knows she exists..."

"And then what? Make her live her life trapped in a single room, confined to a tiny space in this enormous prison that is our home?"

The remains of Sir Douglas Michael's red handprint stayed on her cheek longer than her tears did. All way of opposition vanished when she was thrown across the room...all in the name of her. How could she have given birth to such a thing? To have such blood within her?

But yet Angelica loved this child. More than anyone else in the world. Not for any reason such as ability or skill or way of successful, rich marriages, but the way that the child was Angelica's. All Angelica's children seemed to be in her husband's complete, ultimate possession. They inherited some of his features and followed his way of life, accepting young marriage and trying only to gain more authority for the family.

But that growing hideaway, the big family secret, was hers. And all because Sir Michael Douglas didn't want it. He took what he liked and left the rest for everyone else.

Well look at what he had left her with.

A retard.

But such a beautiful one all the same. She looked more like Angelica with bright, sparkling blue eyes but took the white-blonde, almost albino hair from her father.

Her father who wanted nothing to do with her.

Recently Angelica felt more and more possession of her little girl. She visited her more and more often. Looked into those blank eyes, making them laugh and dance as she tried to teach her daughter something more. She didn't seem to understand much. She was such a simple being, but she was extremely clever in some places. When Angelica was on house arrest while the rest of the family was out, she led her daughter down to the piano and discovered just what her child could do.

Her child needed a name. She had once had one, but for some reason when her simpleness had been discovered it had faded and been erased form the family.

Probably something of Michael's choice, Angelica thought bitterly. This child was not Michael's though, and Angelica would give a name both she and her daughter liked.

Angelica noticed her child's obsession with blue. Anything blue would immediately capture her attention and was hard to pull her away from it.

A name to do with blue of Angelica's choice would please them both.

Thinking back to the amazing way her child had played the piano as if she had learnt all of her life, something clicked.

Angelica rushed over to the piano and the case of piano pieces next to it.

Running her finger along the many pages, her finger fell upon a very old music book, the cover gone from blue to brown and full of strange, complicated pieces that the young girl had played with such ease.

Flicking through, her eye fell upon one particular piece.

"Azure...My Blue Love"

Making her way upstairs, she walked into a dark room and looked towards her glowing child in the corner of the room, staring out of the window.

"Azure?"Angelica said, feeling a little silly but purposeful.

Silence.

Her child never knew when people came in. She never even noticed. For some stupid reason, Angelica thought that just maybe the name was meant for her daughter, that he would for once turn and answer...

"Yes, mummy?"