Wicked Doesn't Mean Evil (Forgotten Past book one)

Prologue

14 years ago
Zelena's POV

I laid in my room staring at the ceiling. My bed wasn't the best, but it was mine. My family was never a very rich one, being poor farmers in a vast kingdom. We hardly ever had enough money to get by. It got even worse when we spent most of the savings on mom's funeral. I haven't eaten in a week, but it was worth it for mom's funeral. My mom meant everything to me. Hunger was a small price to pay to give her a proper burial.

Mom was a sweet, kind and gentle soul. She was the light of our small village. When mom walked in, it was like the blind seeing the light for the first time. Mom helped everyone out when they needed it. She also scolded dad when he tried to belittle me. Since we couldn't afford to send me to school, mom home taught me what she could. She even supported the fact that I could use magic. The day she died was the saddest day of my 14 year old life.

Father called me to into his room. I sighed and walked to his room, knowing if I refused there would be another beating. Father had been getting upset easier these days. Ever since mom died he's been very edgy with me. I'd better try not to upset him...again.

"Yes father," I said gently when I entered his room. He took a sip from his flask. I bunched up my nose when the smell of alcohol hit me. It was oozing out off of him choking the very air itself. Father has been drinking again. He's done it every night for three months now.

"Its time for my shave," he slurred. "get over her you useless girl. And don't you dare try and cut me like you did last time." He slumped into his chair in front of the fire place.

I lowered her head as I gathered the razor. He doesn't need to remind me. I still have the bruises to prove it. I lathered shaving cream on father's neck. Don't screw this up Zelena. The last time you did Father whooped your hide. I took a breath and slowly lifted the blade across his neck.

I hope Father likes it. The last time he didn't....I shivered at the memory. I went back to shaving his beard. It has really grown since the last time. It was still small compared to some of the other men in our village, but still quiet large. I cleaned the blade in a water bucket and went back to finish the job.

Almost there Zelena. Just a little bit more and you can hurry back to your room before father finds something else to blame her for. I was on the last strand when my hand wavered and the blade slipped. Father screamed. I jumped back and looked at the blade and noticed a tiny red dot. Oh no.

"You useless child," he yelled. "After everything I've done for you, you try to kill me!?" Father raised his hand and strikes me into the wall.

Tears streamed down my face. "I'm sorry father I didn't mean it. It was an accident," I sobbed. I rolled my hand and a handkerchief appeared in it. I tried to wipe the blood off his wound but he scrambled back like it was a plague.

"Get that thing away from me. How many times have I told you not yo do that?"

"I'm sorry dad. You know I can't control it." I tossed the handkerchief into the fire but the damage was done. Father slapped me across the face, knocking me to the ground.

"Stop lying! I know you can. And don't call me that, you are NOT my daughter!" He was towering over me by this point.

"That can't be true. You're my dad and mom was my mother." Even as I weakly said that, I could feel there was some truth to his words.

"No you are not! We found you in the woods as a baby! You were dropped in by a cyclone, I knew then that you were a freak. My late wife wanted a child so I didn't question her all these years. But no more. I want you out of this house, now!"

I slowly got to my feet. Tears stained by face as I processed what had happened. The man I had grown to know as my father just admitted to never caring for me in the slightest. The people I called mother and father are not my real parents, they had found my in the aftermath of a cyclone. The tears just kept falling. Mother, why did you never tell me. To find out like this....

I felt another slap to the face and was throw against the wall. Clutching my check I looked up to see my father breathing heavily. His eyes held so much hate and disgust in them that I had to look away. I could feel my body shaking. It was not in anger, but absolute fear. I was afraid of the man I've called father all these years.

"I won't say it again," he said ever so quietly. "Get out of my house. Before I drag you out you little monster!"

"I...I," I tried to choke out. "I n-need to...to grab some of my...my things.

He gave me a harsh laugh. "Those things we're bought with MY money, so they belong to me." My heart dropped some. But, the necklace mother gave me...

"What did I just say," his words slurred with his anger. He advanced towards me making me shiver in fear. "Get the hell out!" He threw a beer my at my head.

I screamed. I ducked under it just in time before it smasher into the wall. Before he could chuck anything else at me I hurried and ran. Out of the room, out of the house, I didn't care. I just couldn't stay there. I ran until I found myself in the woods. Once i was deep enough in the woods my legs gave out and I crumbled to the ground.

"Mother," I screamed, "how could you leave me with such a cruel man? Why did you never tell me the truth? That I was just some child my own parents never even wanted." At the last sentence I could no longer hold back the tears that were threatening to burst. I cried my heart out. I cried for the loss of my mother, for the hate my father felt for me. But most of all, I cried for the anger I felt towards my birth parents for abandoning me. For making me grow up with people that only used me as a surrogate for a child they could never have.

Whipping my tears away I stood up. My chest heaved from all my crying. A new rage replaced all the sadness I felt in my heart. They will pay. Whoever my birth parents are, they will pay!