She was the type of woman that women wanted to be. Blond hair, crystal blue eyes, olive skin, long legs, a strong but feminine face, a face clear of imperfections. Except those subtle laugh lines around her eyes that crinkled as she smiled down at me.
She scared me. She was perfect, reminding me of how I was nothing.
"Do you want some help?" For a split second, I thought she was talking about my father, but then I realized I was still on the floor surrounded by berries.
I shook my head and got to my unsteady feet. She saw my knees shaking and grabbed my arm in a tight grip, her eyes showing concern as she led me away from the pile of food. She had a strength that was not shown by her skinny figure and dainty hands.
"Thank you," I whispered, afraid that my father would walk through the door and see me talking with this stranger. She smiled gently at me, almost as if she could see that people made me anxious and afraid.
"It's no problem sweetie. I have sons, so I'm always cleaning up after them. You should see some of the messes they make back in New York," She laughed, and as she turned to look at the worker who was cleaning up the berries, I could have sworn I heard her say "Including the stock market."
I kept my eyes on the woman in front of me, ready to dash at a moment's notice. She looked friendly. So did my father. They all looked nice and caring. And then they destroyed you.
"Are you here by yourself?" She asked, looking around. She wouldn't find any parents that cared about me anywhere around here. I nodded. "How old are you?" She asked.
I wasn't offended by the question. I knew I didn't look sixteen. It was because my father kept me in the tiny attic most of my life with nothing but books to entertain me. It stunted my growth. Along with not getting fed on a regular basis, I was disgustingly thin and almost always sick.
"Sixteen," I whispered. Her blue eyes widened in shock as she looked me up and down. Her lips twisted into a frown when she saw my collar bones peaking out from behind my shirt, like a curtain. All of my bones jutted out against my skin like they were trying to break out of me from the inside.
It wasn't pleasant to look at either.
"Why don't you give your mom or dad a call and then we can get you home?" The woman was crouching down in front of me. I finally looked at my hands long enough to notice they were covered in juice. Oh, that's why everyone who passed either looked at me with pity, or disgust.
"No, i'll walk," I said and picked myself up. My legs were fine, no shaking. But the woman still felt obliged to walk me to the door, a frown still marring her beautiful face. She had to be in her early fifties, but she aged wonderfully.
"Well, be careful," The woman said, before walking to her car with a backwards glance towards me. I gave a halfhearted wave before starting my long trek home.
I was already in the door when I realized I didn't have the blackberries. I hung my head, not letting one tear escape, when I finally entered my house.
It was furnished elegantly, but that was the thing. It didn't look like a teenager lived there. It looked like a room out of a magazine.
"Father?" I called out softly. No response. Thank goodness. I still had time to get to work.
An hour later, the door opened and I was setting a steaming plate on the table. Without blackberry cobbler.
"Ariel?" Came the questioning voice. He sounded happier than normal. I hoped that meant that my beating tonight would be less.
"In the kitchen," I called back softly. There was a chuckle, then a clatter as he set down his keys. He kicked off his shoes in the hallway and threw his coat over the arm of the couch.
He knew I'd get it later.
"Is dinner ready?" He asked, entering the kitchen with surprisingly light footsteps. I nodded, keeping my eyes on his chin.
He hated when I looked him in the eyes.
"Good. We're having a dinner guest. Don't speak unless spoken to, don't eat more than half your plate. I don't need Lila thinking you're some pig," He smiled. I nodded, ducking my head and trying to escape.
I had showered while everything was in the oven, and changed into a pair of white-washed, worn jeans, and a white, long sleeved shirt.
My hair was pulled back into a bun and I had the faintest traces of flour on my cheeks from my final preparations.
Father looked at the table spread and smiled in satisfaction, before cocking his head in confusion.
"Where's the cobbler?" He asked. I gulped.
I guess he took that as his answer.
He swung around, his fist hitting the underside of my jaw. My head knocked back and I fell to the floor in a heap. Blood dribbled from my lip, where I had accidentally bit down on it while falling.
"I asked a simple question," He bristled with barely contained rage. I trembled under his gaze.
"I shouldn't have been so forgetful. I'm sorry! I should have gotten the berries," I whimpered. He turned towards me again and his foot landed squarely in my throat.
I lost all control of my breathing for a second. He clutched my hair, once he crouched down in front of me. He yanked my head back.
"Look at what you made me do. Go get yourself cleaned up," He growled. I nodded, and once I got off the floor, I sprinted to the bathroom.
I cleaned up the blood and went after the flour, but father called me downstairs before I could get the final streak off my face.
It was on my cheekbone. My gaze faltered when it came across the faint bruise on the underside of my jaw. It was right beside my chin, just a little to the right.
I also had an already forming bruise on my throat, where he kicked me. It was near the hollow of my throat, so I didn't really have to worry about said woman seeing it.
"Ariel! Get the door!" Father yelled from his room. He was probably putting on his favorite cologne, which smelled like mint and pine. It was an amazing smell, but it was on him.
That made it appear in my nightmares.
I quickly made my way down the stairs and basically flung open the door.
And stared.
"You!" The woman from the store seemed startled by my whisper. In my defense, neither of us knew that we would be meeting again.
"This is the right house, right?" She asked, checking her phone. My father bounded down the stairs and put a gentle hand on my shoulder, somewhat pushing me out of the way.
"Lila, I'm so glad you're here," He said while hugging her tightly. She leaned into his embrace.
"I'm glad I'm here, too. But you never told me anything about a daughter," She said, her voice accusing. Father tensed.
"Ariel's a good girl. You don't have to worry about her," Father reassured her. She smiled at him in that gooey way lovers do.
"Ariel, right? I'm Lila. Lila Steel," she held out her hand to shake. The car behind her was still on for some reason. I sincerely hoped I hadn't just set up the table when she was only here for a quickie or something.
"Ariel, take Lila to the table, please," He said. He only used the word 'please' when he was super angry, or someone was around.
"Actually, I have someone I want you to meet," she smiled secretively. Father's eyebrows lowered in confusion.
I hoped she wouldn't do anything that would put my body in any danger. I didn't want another beating.
"Who? Do you have a husband I don't know about?" Father asked jokingly. Lila winced a little at that, and father's eyes widened.
"About that. No husband, don't worry about that. But, since you had a secret child, I figure I might as well tell you about my secret child. Children," She shrugged.
I was so getting a broken bone or two by the end of the night.
"Come inside and we'll talk," Father sighed heavily. She bit her lip and looked back at the car.
"I brought them with me," She said tentatively. Was she expecting him to lash out at her? Or was she simply scared he would shut the door in her face and leave her?
"Them?" Father asked, dangerously low.
Apparently her children, who were waiting in the car, got tired of waiting. The car door opened and they exited.
I gulped.
"Eight? You have eight boys?" Father asked incredulously.
How did someone that skinny pop that many humans out?
"Um, yeah. One pair of twins, two pair of triplets. Jaydon and Ethan are the youngest at sixteen. Jaydon is the actual youngest. Zander, Lucas, and Kade are my seventeen year old's. Then, my eighteen year old's are Xavier, Nathaniel, and Gabriel. Boys, this is Elliot. My fiance," Lila introduced.
Eight boys would make father beating me a whole lot harder.
Wait one second. Did she just say...
"Fiance?" I choked. Everyone turned to look at me and I shrunk under their gazes.
"Elli, you didn't tell her about me?" Lila asked, making it into a joke but actually offended. I could see it in her eyes.
"I figured with after her mother having that horrible fall that to preserve her sanity, she didn't need to know," Father lied smoothly.
"What happened to your mother?" Lila asked me, genuinely curious. So father didn't use it as a card to pick her up. Shocking.
"She fell down the stairs," Father said, a slight smile making its way onto his face.
"Oh, that's horrible. I'm so sorry. When?" Lila asked, a hand covering her mouth. Father walked inside and left me outside with our guests.
I turned and walked and inside, leading them inside. A cold, emotionless covered my face.
"Three months ago."