Sold [Rough Draft]

Chapter 13 (part 1)

        "It's better than being here with all of you." I suggested and returned his heat glare. 

           His whole windows-shaking-table-breaking charade wasn't scaring me anymore. I had to stand up to this guy. Fight for everything I that I want: my life, my parents, and my friends. 

         "Oh, well then why would I allow you the bliss of death? You need to suffer for your disobedience." The devil smirked and his violet eyes glazed over, a white ripple moving in them.  

          I felt my body shift a bit and my gaze landed on a figure hunched on the floor. Sobs traveled through the room, to my ears. I cringed and anxiety rock me from head to toe.  

           "Mom?" I gasped, my body frozen in place. 

            The person looked up her black bagged eyes searching the room, when her gaze landed on me her face lit up. "Charity?" she whispered and jumped to her feet, almost losing her footing. "Sweetie, what are you doing here? Your father and I have been looking for you everywhere!" Rita rushed over to me and placed her slim arms around me. 

           Salty tears welled in my eyes and I pulled her closer to me, molding into her embrace I sighed. Relief washing over me. 'They are okay. Everything is fine', I chanted to myself. My emotions caved in. All the dolor I felt on these last days all transpired into my tears. 

            "I miss you so much mom." I wailed and dug my face into her neck, inhaling that familiar scent of cinnamon. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left. I was stupid." I rambled on. 

              "I've missed you too. It's okay, sweetie. All is forgotten." I watched my mother smile through watery eyes. A grateful sigh left my lips as her fingers grazed my cheeks and wiped away the tears. "You have to come home to me and your father. That's all we want, sweetie."  

              "I would if I could..." I stepped away from her and she frowned. 

           "What is wrong, honey?" Worry etched into her wrinkled face and my heart wrenched. I hated seeing her like this. It usually meant that something was extremely wrong, and last time I got that look she had been getting threats from Big Daddy. 

         "Mom, I'm stuck here for rest of my life. My birth mother gave me up and now...." My speech began fade off as the devil stepped closer to Rita and yanked her by the neck.  

             Rita's tiny hand immediately rose to the devils' grip and alarm shot through me. "Let her go!" I ordered. 

             "Oh really? Why should I?" 

          "Because she's has nothing to do with this! This isn't her battle to fight!" I screamed and charged toward the devil.  

          "Collateral damage. You are like a plague. Wherever you go someone dies. You killed your birth mother--" 

             "No I didn't!" I interrupted him. I have no idea where the knew found bravery came from but I used it. I took a step forward cautiously. Maybe it wasn't bravery that moved, maybe it was fear. Fear of losing someone I loved. 

              "Now Rita is taking your burden." The devil pouted and his hands tightened around Rita's neck. She began gasping for air and loud chocking and gargling noises filled the room.  

           "You're the reason why everyone on Earth will think you murdered your mother. If you want to go back, I will gladly let you." The devil smiled and tightened his grip around Rita. "I can't wait to watch you rot in jail. You are a murder Charity Smalls." He taunted.  

               I shook my head and back away, the years streaming more freely. "No, no I'm not. Stop it!"  

              "Her blood is on your hands!" The devil threw another toothy grin my way. "You're nothing but a murder."  

            "No! Stop!" I screamed and my legs gave way underneath me. I dropped to my knees and planted my face in my hands. "Please, don't kill her. Please I'll do anything." I begged. I couldn't do this for Rita, she gave me everything. She gave me loved, protection, security, and hope when no one else could. I couldn't be the cause of her death, the guilt would eat me alive.  

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Mwah Edwardcullen1918