Page 46 of Hearts Etched in Glass
“You know I’m doing this for your own good Tilly. You’ve let those boys brain wash you, that filthy town. City. Whatever it is. It’s so peasant-like. You are worth more. You were going to have such a promising future, but we let you go and allowed you to pursue nursing. I told your father we should pull you out of that wretched school when you ended up changing your career pathway and becoming a nurse instead of a physician like your brother.”
I stay still on the floor. Hoping the sight of me gives her some sort of guilt. Any type of remorse.
Any feeling.
Though she continues talking.
She continues to speak as she sees her daughter laying on the floor in her undergarments, with bloodied limbs. A small chuckle escapes, when I don’t mean for it to.
“What on earth could possibly be funny right now? Look at you? Look at what that town has done to you. The state you are in is like a rabid animal Tilly!?” Mother’s voice dares to crack, she actually thinks her cause is justifiable, to imprison and kidnap her adult daughter within her home.
Clearing my throat I ask with a dry tone, “Is father even sick?”
She ignores me, continuing to speak in a singsong, cheery tone.
“You know, I think Ronald will still take you back. You have so much history and he really cares about you Tilly—” I cut her off, shouting, “Is father even sick?”
Mother audibly inhales. “No. He and your brothers are on a hunt and they will be gone for a week.”
I lose it.
Laughter spills from my lips as I hold my abdomen. It aches from the jostling movement and not eating for twenty-four hours, but God do I feel like a moron.
Walking straight into her trap.
“I’m such a moron,” I state out loud.
Then lay back as chills wrack my body.
Mother gets angry at my antics.
“That is enough of your inappropriate behavior Tilly! You will cease this charade and come to your senses. You will marry Ronald and you will settle down!”
I am surprised at how swift I stand and march towards the door, seeing the fear in my pathetic mother’s eyes.
“It’s going to be hard to marry a fucking corpse, mother!” My teeth bare as I shout through the opening.
She rears back. “What in heavens name are you talking about?”
Maniacal laughter escapes my lips as I brace my hands on either side of the door.
“It’s going to be hard to marry Ronald when I fucking killedhim. I fucking killedhimand we fucked right in front of him. The last thing he saw was me being pleasured by other men.Better men. And if youdon’t let me out of here, theywillfind me and they will destroy you for what you’ve done to me.”
Her eyes narrow, cold and disturbing. “I would rather have you come to your senses and rot or cut yourself to death in there before I ever let you return to those low-lives.” She spits out the words like a distasteful appetizer.
Then she shuts the opening.
I stare at the dark brown wood for a few minutes as tears pathetically slide down my cheeks again.
“I hate you!” I scream as loud as I can, hoping the gates of Hell would fucking rattle with my screeching. Though she will just see it as a temper tantrum.
My back slides down the door frame. I hug myself for comfort.
Numbness sets across my muscles, as hopelessness rears its ugly head.
A beautiful dream takes hold of my senses within the darkness I’ve fallen into. Bobby is sweetly caressing my head, unfurling the strands and tenderly scratching my scalp.
I’m sitting within his lap as he soothes me. Marcus crouches down with what appears to be a small amount of gauze and some wound cleansing supplies.
