Inheritance

Part 2. Chapter 35: The Weak

Kline groaned and seized her by the arm—dragging her away from the wall and out the bedroom door.

"What are you doing?" Pollyanna asked, not daring to struggle as she was pulled along.

He didn't answer, but his hand tightened around her arm so hard that she was sure it would leave a bruise.

He dragged her to the front door where he shoved her outside and locked the door behind her.

"You'll sleep outside. That's your punishment." Kline said coldly from inside the manor.

Crickets filled Pollyanna's ears as she stared out at the dark landscape in front of her.

There are monsters in the dark! She childishly thought to herself. I'll be eaten if I sleep out here!

It was hot and humid outside. She was already beginning to sweat profusely.

She turned around and slammed her fists on the door. "Let me in! Please let me in!"

No answer.

She ran over to her mother's house and frantically knocked on the door. "Mother! Mother help! It's hot and—"

Pollyanna looked behind her and swore she saw a silhouette in the distance--although it may have been her imagination. "There's someone out here! Help me!"

A minute passed, and Pollyanna was sure her mother would not answer the door. She sank to her knees in misery and hugged her stomach.

She took many deep breaths and accepted the fact that she would be sleeping outdoors.

But she was proved wrong; her mother appeared at the door—rubbing her eyes tiredly. "What's wrong, Pollyanna?"

"Kline locked me out of the manor. Please let me stay here, please!" Pollyanna begged.

Pollyanna's mother had a cold and unfeeling look on her face. She crossed her arms and looked indifferent to her daughter's tear-streaked face.

In a moment, however, her posture relaxed, and for the first time since she was a young child, her mother had a compassionate look on her face. "Come in, Pollyanna."

Pollyanna was stunned by her sudden and unexpected kindness.

Her mother gently took her by the shoulders and ushered her inside.

"Oh, thank you, mother, thank you!" Pollyanna cried.

Pollyanna kept wiping her tears away as they walked down the hall, and her mother asked compassionately, "shall I tell you a bedtime story? Like when you were younger?"

Pollyanna nodded; still too shocked by her mother's kindness to say anything.

Her mother led her to her bedroom where she climbed up on the bed and patted the spot next to her.

Pollyanna laid on her side, shaking, and put her head in her mother's lap.

"Once upon a time, there was a long line of daughters. The mothers of the daughters in question were wonderful for much of their children's childhood, but as the children grew older, the mothers would change. This change happened nearly overnight; the mothers would go from brushing their daughters' hair at night, to hitting them with the brush in the morning..." Her mother was stroking Pollyanna's hair with emotionless tears running down her cheeks.

Pollyanna stared at the wall with wide eyes.

She remembered her mother telling her this story over and over again when she was younger, but she had stopped one day, and Pollyanna had forgotten it since.