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Turning her head to face me, her eyes are hooded as tears of blood fall down her cheek. Then, the crimson red begins to drip out of her nose.
“Mommy…” I don’t know if I said this out loud or just in my head. I feel like I am no longer in my own body as I watch this.
The man holding the blade never lets go of it.
Looking up at him, I mouth to him please, trying to plead with him to help her. His eyes remain on me, and his body doesn’t move.
Fucking bastard.
He is completely unaffected by the horrific scene he has caused.
Defeat starts to settle in as I watch her die. No one is going to help her.
The only parent I have ever had, the one person who truly loves me, is leaving me too soon.
“Mommy, no, please don’t go. Please stay with me. Mommy.”
Her head gets heavy as it falls against the table. Looking into my eyes, she blinks at me once more before life fades from them. She is gone.
“I fucking hate you. You bastard, I hate you.” I manage to get out between sobs.
My anger is directed at all of them. They all just watched and held her down, fucking cowards. They did it because their fucking leader told them to. He is the most disgusting of them all.
“Rain, what horrible things to say about your father, don’t you think?” The deep voice is more casual now. It catches me by surprise.
Then I absorbed what he just said.
My father?
“My mother would never have gotten with anyone as fucked up and evil as you. You are not my father. I don’t have a father!”
I scream with every ounce of air in my lungs into the room, it’s high-pitched and full of pain.
My mother was just murdered, right in front of my eyes, and this piece of shit is alleging to be my father now, the leader of The Chapel.
“No need to say anything more. Let us finish the ceremony, and you can go back to your cell.” He commands. He’s upset that I am not welcoming him with open arms.
I am defeated. Alone. Heartbroken.
I just want to wake up. This can’t be real.
Sobbing, my body goes limp in my handlers’ hold. My head falls forward, and I am dazed, no longer able to focus or process what is happening.
The handler lets go of me, and my body falls hard to the ground. I’m sure it hurts, but I can’t feel anything.
Unable to focus, I am caught by surprise when warm liquid touches my skin; still just in my thin sleep shorts and tee.
My vision gets distorted as they begin to pour it over my head, coating me as it runs down my forehead, over my eyes and onto my lips. It drips to the ground in front of me. Opening my mouth slightly, I lick my lips. The taste of copper invades my tastebuds. The metallic smell creeps up my nose.
Another bucket gets thrown over me, coating the rest of my body.
It’s blood.
Dark red, warm blood. At first, I think it’s from an animal. I’ve heard of this, dousing people in pig or cow blood. But it’s too warm, and too fresh. They would have had to have just slaughtered it.
Then a wave of realization washes over me.
This is my moms blood.
