The constant noise of banging on the door was giving me a dull headache now. Her voice kept bellowing from the other side of the door,
"Young lady, you open the door this instant or we will seriously have to break it down to get through!"
Hah. As if. Break it down with what? Those pretty little manicured, delicate hands of yours? Or those perfectly pedicured feet? I sighed and buried my head under the pillow to keep away from all these banging and yelling. But my affectionate mother wouldn't stop.
"Hmm I see...." She mused, "My words don't seem to penetrate through your torpid eardrums. Very well, I'll just have to summon your father then. He'll manage your disrespectful attitude and uncouth behavior with a single snap."
I mentally rolled my eyes at that, digging my head deeper into the soft mattress under the pillow. My revolutionary idea of locking myself up in my own room wasn't going too well so far. Guess plan-C would've been way better than this one after all but the extents of risk in that is too high.
The banging continued for some more time and stopped abruptly, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching through the hallway. It stopped right outside my door and for a minute, everything was tranquil. Judging from that, they were busy hatching plots in hushed tones. Then my dear father's voice thundered from the other side,
"Amethyst, if you don't open this damned door this second, I swear to God there will be grave consequences."
I wanted to yell back at him, "What grave consequences, dad? No parties for a week? No shopping for a month? No handsome suitors for a year? Well I'm more than okay with that. This had been my main goal after all, but you don't know that, of course. So your grave consequences is equal to my partial freedom." But I just yelled in my head, so the only living things that heard me were my screaming neurons.
His angry fists collided against the wooden door so hard that it looked like my room was under the attack of Godzilla. Then it stopped for a while. Something was definitely wrong. It was like the calm before the storm. Then his angry voice roared from the other side,
"Alright daughter, you asked for it."
My heart skipped a beat and I gulped. I knew that tone of his too well to easily predict what will be happening next. Someone save me please.
Before I could even register what was happening, the door had been kicked open, the knob broke due to the impact and came flying across the room and my father barged in. I wasn't ready for what happened next. He scurried towards my bed and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me upright. I yelped at the sudden surge of pain that disseminated throughout my entire scalp. I tried to move my head away from him but his grip only got stronger.
"Let go!" I winced in pain.
He just grimaced in response and surprisingly, let me go. I wasn't ready for that either. I stared miserably at my mother who had just sauntered into the room, totally unfazed by the situation here. I was going to say something but when my gaze shifted to the thing in her hand, I froze. I could feel my whole body becoming pale and stiff in fear. Just me and my rotten luck, nothing new. Because I knew too well what was going to happen next.
Father walked over to her and seized the cane from her hand harshly, earning a glare from her. Not because he was going to use it on her daughter but because he had snatched it so roughly from her hand that it might have spoiled her perfectly manicured fingers.
He strolled towards me, his lips curling up into a wicked smile. He stopped right infront of my bed, where I was sitting. I tried to get back but he hefted the cane before I could manage to slip away and the wooden cane came down, bashing my right arm. I screeched and tried to shield myself with a pillow but he snatched it from me and threw it away. He grabbed me by an elbow and pulled me straight up. Then he started flogging me with the cane, the lashes leaving red marks on my bare skin and it stung like hell. My whole body was screaming in pain. Even though I was habituated with such circumstances, the habituation didn't take the pain away at all. I wailed and begged him to stop but my sobs were washing away my words. My mother was too busy admiring her own reflection in the mirror to even bother telling him to stop.
By the time he had finally slowed down, I was a whimpering mess, rubbing my wounds frantically in order to lessen the pain but it stung horribly and the raw scars screamed like sirens. He threw away the cane and glowered at me.
"Perhaps this will teach you some lesson," he said as he held my chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted it up harshly to face him. I was too dazed by then to react at all. He chewed out his words,
"This is what you get for rebelling against us and disobeying us, you wretched child!"
He let go of my chin just as harshly as he had lifted it and stomped out of the room.
My mother, for the first time, diverted her gaze from the mirror and walked up to me, her arms crossed. She glanced down at me with a look of pure distaste and spoke out,
"Now you'll be a good, obedient daughter and dress up as per our choice. The Vincents will be here soon along with the other guests. I expect the best of you to make a good first impression and greet everyone cordially. Especially your fiancé. You don't want to rewind what had happened the last time."
I was still rubbing my bruises, trying my best to remain oblivious to the rubbish that was ceaselessly sprouting from her mouth.
She paused for a moment and sized me up from head to toe. Then she spat,
"And please don't forget to cover up these ghastly scars with makeup. You look like an utter mess. I'm ashamed to even think of you as my daughter."
I glanced at her from the corner of my eyes and shivered at the pure disgust radiating off her icy blue eyes.
And with that she left the room, leaving me with the pain and scars. This was nothing new to me. It was as normal as a sunset to me and yet I'm not accustomed to the pain. It hurts so bad everytime. Everytime the raw pain engulfs me, leaving me so enervated. I really hated this feeling. The mental trauma that arrives with it is way worse than the physical pain. It always has been.
She had been right about one thing though. I was born in the wrong place. I don't belong here, I never did. Infact I don't even know if I belong anywhere in this world. The person who feels like an outcast in her own family certainly doesn't stand a chance infront of the whole world. All these poshness, luxury, etiquette and elegance aren't quite befitting me.
I've always been a terror to my suitors. The last one, Cedric Maurice had been a grade-A jerk. He tried to get too 'intimate' with me so I kicked him in the spot where the sun doesn't shine. Simple self defense. Honestly, that numbskull deserved way worse than that for trying to rape me in my own house. But my loving parents had to make a big deal out of it. They blamed me for being such a 'cruel witch'. Yes, they called me that infront of the hundreds of guests present in the ballroom and took the 'poor guy', the real victim to the doctor.
I should've just let him get under my gown. I mean, that's what a perfect, a well mannered lady would've done, right? Instead I acted out of impulse like a witch and stood my ground, saved my dignity. So wrong. Funny how the world works.
I was locked up in my room for a week. I was shunned and shamed by the whole family only because I hadn't let some man rape me. I'm the unwanted mess, the walking disaster, the wretched, pathetic member of this family. Lucky for me I'm used to all the scorns they throw at me just for being who I am.
The Vincents are a family friend. The bond between our families go way back. Theodore Vincent is my father's business partner and one of the closest allies. That's one of the reasons my parents are acting extra paranoid with me this time. Even more than the usual. I must not be allowed to mess things up this time. Because they've been meaning to join our families through Tyler Vincent, Theodore Vincent's eldest and me, ever since we were born. My loving parents betrothed me as a crawling toddler in diapers. They're fast, can't blame them for that.
Tyler Vincent is my legitimate definition for a total jerk, a complete moron, an utter douche and a perfectly characterless creature. Makes sense, right? He's a straight ahead bastard and a womanizer. Yes, he's a complete package of perfection. But in the eyes of my blinded parents, he's a god. And tonight, I'm supposed to wrap myself in some pretty gown and princessy hairstyle only to impress the ungodly god and persuade him into marrying me soon. Just the mere thought of it gives me a sick headache accompanied by nausea.
A sudden knock on my ajar door jerked me back to reality.
"May I come in, ma'am?" Claudia's muffled voice came from the other side. She's one of the maids in charge of our care.
"Y-yes," I stammered as I got up.
She came in, two hangered gowns in her hands. One was a shimmery peach gown, with an off shoulder neckline etched with pearls. Another was an ocean blue mermaid gown with cold shoulder sleeves.
"Whichever you choose." She added helpfully and smiled.
I wanted to say, "I choose a loose T-shirt with baggy jeans." But instead I heaved a sigh and chose the second one, not that I'm a very big fans of mermaids or anything.
She nodded in approval and hung the gown in my wardrobe.
"Savanna will be doing you hair today, ma'am." She paused and added nervously, eyeing my wounds, "Do you need anything?"
I understood the gesture and answered gently,
"No, I'm good."
She nodded and bowed slightly before leaving the room. I sank back in my bed and fixed my gaze at the ceiling, mentally preparing myself to getting dolled up for yet another douche tonight.
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Phew.....the chapter looks so short, no? Don't worry my fellow weirdos. The long journeys are not much far away *wink wink* So hold your horses and grab your cupcakes. And don't forget to vote, comment and share it with your friends if you like the story, it will really mean a lot to me :)
Thanks for reading!