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“If you apologize for your earlier behavior, I might consider telling you”
“I apologize,” I grit my teeth so hard that my jaw aches.
“On your knees,” she gestures towards the floor, and I feel myself losing control.
“I’m sorry,” I kneel and stare at the ground, afraid that I'll break if I look into her eyes.
“You're such an obedient dog,” she laughs, gripping my chin with two fingers, lifting my face from the ground. “I can't believe you've stooped so low for that hideous bitch.”
When our eyes meet, something inside me shatters. Her arrogant gaze, the superiority in her voice, and the humiliation she subjects me to, I can no longer bear them. I explode.
I lose control.
“Do you know who’s the real bitch?” I jump on her and grab her blonde hair, styled in perfect curls. “You! You’re hideous on the inside. You’re just a whore living off my dad’s money. I’m dying to know if you’ll stick around once that dumb fucker won’t have any more money. You’re a social parasite, who can’t do anything else besides do her nails all day and spend money. I'm going to give you what you deserve if you keep treating me like trash. You are nothing, you hear me!” I scream and feel pulled by the hood of my sweatshirt, and knocked to the ground by a heavy punch.
When I realize what’s going on, I see Dan standing over me. He takes off his belt, and I can already feel the pain. My flesh remembers it.
“How dare you talk to your mother like this?” he roars angrily and slams another heavy slap across my face before I recover from the first one.
Next comes the belt hit over my arms, then down my back, and when he seems dissatisfied with the impact of the belt, he turns to the heavy palm again until I feel my face go numb and my ears ring.
“Please, honey, stop! You're going to kill him!” Anabella is crying in a corner, and I don't know if her panic is fake this time, because I feel like Dan is actually going to kill me if he doesn't calm down.
I feel so humiliated, but above all, it’s not fair. The tears on my cheeks slowly mix with the blood trickling from my nose, creating a sticky goo that trickles down my lips, chin, and throat.
“She lost Carla…” I try to whisper through the tears.
“How dare you prioritize a mutt over the woman who feeds you?!”
“Feeds me? This woman would be happy if I starved to death.”
“Don't you ever stop with your comments?!” I see him approaching again, but Anabella steps in between us.
“Please, stop. It's enough!” Her hands tremble as she shields me from my father's uncontrollable rage, but her steady gaze captures my attention, and I follow it.
In the background, Manasseh stands silently at the top of the stairs. Expressionless, as if he doesn't even breathe, he doesn't move, he's a witness to the entire scene. Apparently, my father's shouting had drawn him out of his room. He doesn't intervene, nor would he dare. He's too much of a coward to defy my father's word. I'm surprised he had the nerve to come downstairs when Dan is nothing but a hysterical mess.
We're built different.
While I've taken beatings from Dan for as long as I can remember, he wouldn't lay a finger on Manasseh. And it's not because he loves and respects him—Dan is incapable of loving anyone—but because in Manasseh's eyes, he is the noose that tied him to Anabella, and Uriel is an accident that no longer counts, except in the family tree. I know that right after him, Dan got a vasectomy, making sure he wouldn't have any more kids. I regret that he didn't make that decision long before. Before me.
It turns my stomach upside down, just the mere reminder of these thoughts.
On the other hand, I am the sick purpose of not breaking the Morgenstern lineage. I am a pureblood Morgenstern, but with tainted blood. I hate that we share the same blood.
If I am the product of a monster and a victim, what does that make me? I don't even know what I am, but I'm certainly not good enough for Rebecca. I’m unholy.
Anabella doesn't care about me; she suffocates Manasseh enough when she's not focused on sabotaging me. Her attention is worth nothing to Masse. I'm sure the idiot would gladly take the beatings in my place, just so Dan would look at him, even for a second.
“You're sixteen years old, and you're still crying over a dog. Get out of my sight!” he shouts, dragging me towards the back door, running through the rain as far as I can see.
I have to get as far away from home as possible because I can't breathe anymore.
On the road, not far from our street, I come across Uriel playing on his phone, guided by Carla on the sidewalk.
The rain hides my tears and washes the blood off my face. I rub my eyes and feel my heart settling down. Carla sees me and starts pulling the idiot along. I kneel down and let her lick my face.
“Why did you take her without telling me?” I choke out, tears streaming down my face.
