Cheesecake's Short Stories Book #1:

One Last Glance

(This text has been translated from the Jovian language of Northern Emereldon.)

Cheesecake P.O.V.

I don't remember much growing up, only selective memories. Everything was exactly the same. I got used to the monotonous days that fate had in store for me, the long, hard hours spent laboring away for my wicked mistress. Honey Sweet, a cruel woman who has the morals of a demon, owns the mansion, as well as various acres of land around the city and countryside. There's a constant hate in those glistening golden eyes of hers, and every time I encounter her, I feel the worst of it. Do I know why she relentlessly continues to loathe me? No, I have no idea. I've done nothing but follow her orders like the slave I am. But I can tell you that the feeling is mutual. 

My mother died when I was...Gosh...six years old? I don't remember much of her, but I do have the recollection of her panic, her constantly worrisome mannerisms. She was my only protection, the only barrier between me and the abuse of the wicked Sweets. Maple Sweet, Honey's mother, died the same day as my own mom. The difference between these deaths is unclear to me; I was never told exactly what happened to the two women. Although I cared very much about my mother's death, it was not my place to speak out of turn, to get involved in such matters. 

When I saw my mom's pale, lifeless body on the floor that night on my way back to the servants' quarters, I had run for help, screaming until my lungs became heavy with dissipating denial and solidifying reality. My mother was dead, and yet I still managed to seize the attention of a woman I had never seen before. She was an older woman with her silver hair wrapped in a tight bun directly on top of her head. Pearl was her name, and she ran with me back to servants' quarters; however, by the time we got there, it was too late. The rest of the servants were gathered around the body, along with a few cops. Honey was there, too, glaring at my mother's body. Then she looked up at me with wide, painful eyes. She took a quick glance at the occupied police officers, my mother's dead body, and then back at me, and she immediately took off in my direction, pushing me into another room far down the hall, closing the door behind us.

"No one is to see you!" She screamed her whisper.

"Is...Is she...?" I started to cry.

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" Honey slapped me. It was the first time I had ever been abused, and it was not the last. "Did you hear what I said? No one is to see you. No one! Your mom is dead, and you know what? Maybe if she didn't have a freaking idiot for a daughter, she'd still be alive!"

My cheek was burning now, and I couldn't help but sob. There was too much pain for me to comprehend. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to run away, but I didn't want to leave my mother. The problem was, my mother had already left me. I could not tell which was hurting me most, the searing pain of Honey's slap across my face, or the agony derived from my deceased mother. I let out a miserable moan, and Honey slapped me again.

"Aah!" I yelped, seeing spots in my vision from the blow. 

"I said quiet, you stupid girl!" And she grabbed my throat, digging her nails into my flesh. I could feel the hysteria in her actions. I could see it in her eyes, burning with passionate hatred. My neck was burning against her shaking claws, and her glare was tearing my soul apart. 

"Plea...sto...p..." Was all I could manage to get out as she raised her fist to me. 

"Miss Sweet," a woman's voice suddenly emitted from the doorway, "I will report this to the authorities."

Honey dropped me, leaving me to gag and gasp for air, clawing my neck, for it was buried in flames.

"You will do no such thing," she said. "You were assigned to me. I own the rights of your discretion, and I most definitely own this girl under the law."

"Yes, but that doesn't give you a right to beat an innocent girl senseless." 

I looked up to see the old woman who ran to help me: Pearl. And even though my neck and throat were in excruciating pain, I managed to cough out a small, "My...mom...?"

"AND WHAT ABOUT MY MOM? HUH? YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF GARBAGE! DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING? MY MOM IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU AND YOUR PATHETIC MOTHER! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT, YOU LITTLE BI-"

"That's enough!" Pearl yelled, grabbing Honey's attention. 

Honey looked mad. Not the angry kind of mad, but the kind when you can't tell if the person is on the verge of insanity. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her white night gown was tear stained. Her thick, golden hair was roughly tied back, and it was the first time I noticed the dry blood on her shaking hands. Honey had obviously had a rough night, as well, and for a moment, I felt sorry for her...for a moment. 

"Pearl," Honey said in a rigid tone, "please follow me."

The two women left, and I was alone clutching my throat that was now tingling furiously. But I somehow managed to find the will to get back on my feet, crawl out the doorway, and walk down the hall. I just wanted one last glance at my mother before they removed her body. I wanted to see the short strands of her flawless hair, her beautifully scarred skin, the everlasting dimples on her cheeks. I wanted to see all the parts I thought mattered most, the features I wanted to remember my mother by because each part of these things told a bit of a story. Her story. Our story. 

But as I stood in the shadows of the doorway, the only thing I had the chance to see was a dead woman, looking up into nothing, fear frozen eternally on her face. Her head seemed misplaced, for it lied a noticeable two inches to the right of her neck.

That is how I remember, and will always remember, my mother.

I never saw Pearl again.