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What's this? Weakness? I feel blood, and I'm about to bite!
“Would you get over it if your family were driven out of town? Would you get over it if your father decided he couldn't follow us and chose to pursue his calling? Would you get over it if you ended up living in a barely functional 3-bedroom apartment, sometimes without hot water and on the brink of eviction, working two jobs and still not affording to buy the essentials, let alone help with kidding the meds because the health insurance doesn't cover them, blaming yourself every night that you destroyed your family? Because before you, I bear the burden of my teenage naivety. I let myself be fooled.”
“Shit, I'm sorry,” Uriel leans his head forward and looks at me with pity.
Ah, that pity-filled gaze, which only disgusts me and adds more fuel to the fire, even though I initially wanted to see a hint of remorse.
“I don't need your pity, Uriel. Empathy doesn't help me anymore. I need you all to take responsibility, each one of you, and genuinely repent. I want you to taste the bitter flavor of the harm caused as a joke; otherwise, I will make sure you taste your own misery that you once served me in the form of mockery.”
“Becca...” his forehead wrinkles, and the way he fidgets with his fingers shows me that Uriel feels trapped, just like a fly in a spider's web.
“Just kidding,” I smile and cross my legs. “Oh, I haven't told you the worst part yet,” I smile neurotically.
“Worse than that?”
“Mom has cancer,” I throw it at him without sparing any details.
“What? Becca, why didn't you say anything? I would have somehow helped you,” he drops everything and approaches the bed.
“It’s terminal stage,” I clench the bedsheet and swallow the lump in my throat. “You rich guys, you think you can buy everything, but time can't be bought.”
“Becca...” Uriel comes close and pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry!” he seems sincere, but his sincerity doesn't warm me in the slightest.
“As you can see, my life isn't exactly beautiful. And no, I can't forgive you, Uriel.”
“Becca, our past doesn't define us as people. We've changed.”
“I've seen it. Manasseh made sure to show me that he changed from bad to worse.”
“You met Manasseh?”
“Unfortunately,” I moisten my lips and refuse to go into details.
I don't want anyone to find out what happened between us. I'll make them regret what they did to me, one by one. Manasseh had only tasted a drop of the poison I had prepared for them.
“Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?” Uriel looks at me worriedly and continues to hold my shoulders.
“Why are you asking me this?” I raise my gaze to him.
“I assumed that...”
“That these were Manasseh's intentions all along? You’re probably not wrong,” I get away from him and stand up. “Only Manasseh truly knows what's going on inside his mind,” my comment sounds mocking, but I don't care.
I don’t respect Manasseh, and now, since Samael had disappointed me, I don’t respect anyone in the Morgenstern family.
“I want you to reach out to me whenever you need, Becca,” Uriel sounds reassuring, but I shook my head.
What does this fool think? That I would run into his arms, when he’s incapable of protecting me? Uriel had no power. Always too distracted to pay attention to what is happening around him, his head in the clouds and his mind wandering.
“He hasn't hurt me,” I shake my head and got out of bed.
“That's good. If he ever does anything to you, please tell me. Alright?” Uriel's gaze remained fixed on me.
Pathetic! I think as I turn away from him.
“Are you planning to rescue me from the big bad wolf, Crasnic?” I lean in slightly and place my hand on his shoulder.
“Wait, what?” Uriel's expression changes when he hears about You-Know-Who.
