Pain was at the forefront.
Always. Everyday.
If the pain was not created by Uncle Tommy again, it was created by Candace. Formerly known as Adelaide's mother. She no longer called her by that title. Candace did not deserve that title.
That title was no longer justified. Candace had no longer earned the merit to be called 'mother'.
No longer did Candace find joy in beating Adelaide. She had found another instrument to further her hobby.
A hobby that caused Adelaide to scream out.
A hobby that caused Adelaide to cry out.
A hobby that caused Adelaide to feel like dying every time.
Branding.
Candace loved branding Adelaide's body.
Candace loved branding her canvas.
Word for word.
Letter by letter.
Candace cackled satanically whilst looking at her canvas.
Her canvas. Chained to the wall, spread out like a rug.
Adelaide was hanging by her wrist, her forehead touching the wall softly, but leaving her little room to move. She was suspended in the air. Her feet are not able to feel the hardwood floor under her.
Bloodshot eyes, tears engraved in her cheeks.
Her vocal chords sore from her screams.
How no one could hear her.
How the pain never stopped.
And how Candace used her awful voice to let a sentence keep repeating in Adelaide's mind.
"You are a disappointment."
And the branding of her canvas started again.
You are a disappointment
You are a disappointment
You are a disappointment
Adelaide was a disappointment to her so-called mother.
Adelaide was a disappointment to her father.
Adelaide was a disappointment to herself.
Adelaide hated being ten years old.
Adelaide hated to be in pain.
Adelaide hated to have no voice.
Adelaide hated to be alive.
Getting to know more and more about our girl. What do you think? Let me know.
Till next time. Love Sarah