Temper: Book One of the Taboo Series, page 9
The one miraculous brightness I encountered as the rest of my life dimmed came in one of Elizabeth’s moments of savagery. She swept into the library with an army of servants, all jotting notes as she made demands. She told some to hang holly and garland while commanding others to work on the lighting. My presence was ignored as I scanned the crowd. I couldn’t spot Hannah.
Elizabeth’s voice snapped in my direction with her finger pointed, “You.” I glared at her while expecting to be put to work in the house. “You aren’t to be on the grounds. You won’t be allowed to ruin my Christmas Eve party.”
She meant to embarrass me. The averted eyes and astonished expressions of the servants made her beam with triumph. I tried to feign horror even as my blood hummed with excitement for the Christmas miracle she granted me.
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My days were consumed with attempts of distracting my mind from the aches of my body. Half completed projects of new dresses lay strewn across the room. Sketches never could keep my concentration long enough to finish, and the books in the library soon began feeling redundant. I could find comfort in nothing but the fantasies of returning home.
At night when restlessness consumed me in the dark all I had was the pain to focus on. I began to wander the mansion in my bare feet. I found my way through the servants’ quarters until I memorized the angles and passages. Many of the rooms were empty but for a few old objects from previous tenants. I left the pieces of the past behind in respect.
One room began to haunt my thoughts- the room next to mine. I speculated every night why it was locked and what secrets were kept behind the door.
I clung to the blackest shadows and stared at the door while mentally willing it to open. I would stare at it for hours imagining a dungeon hidden within, or maybe a different world. I began to suspect the answers to Grandmother’s obstinance and depravity were kept in there.
The questions began to consume me to a point of madness. It was a constant reminder of the locked closet door at home.
Chapter 16- Smothered
I knew when the clock rang once in the darkness he would soon appear with my life in a drawstring bag. I sat on the vanity bench and daydreamed through the night. The door opened and he stepped towards the bed. I wanted to reach out. I wanted to speak and thank him but all appreciation was lost on him. His responses were limited to harsh nods or grimaces.
He dropped the bag onto the foot of the bed and stared at me in the moonlight. His body had begun to shake with anger long before he reached my room. “Aren’t you going to turn around and leave without saying anything again?” I asked from the window.
I gasped as he charged toward me. His fingers dug into my arms as he lifted me from the vanity bench. My mind hissed, unable to distinguish if he was still a friend or another foe. “You’re coming home with me. Now,” he demanded in a voice as harsh as his touch.
I pushed against his chest and slipped through his hands as I scrambled across the bed in fear. “Stop!”
“She’s killing you, Olivia. I can’t enable this anymore. You need to at least attempt to survive, look at you.”
I backed away as he stalked closer. He grabbed my wrists and dragged me across the room. His fists pulled my dress around my hips and waist. He spun me towards the mirrored closet doors. I turned my face away.
His voice sounded foreign. The violent timbre vibrated through my body. “You made this to fit your body two months ago. Two of you could fit into it now.”
He released me and I stumbled forward. My heart thudded in fear but not towards him. I had refrained from paying much attention to my appearance. He was right.
He continued cruelly, “You barely have enough room in your stomach to eat half of what I make you on the weekends. This one bag could last you a month now. You come home with me now or I return with Stan and whoever else I need to in order to bring you home. You promised.”
Guilt threatened to swallow me for breaking my word to him. “You know I can’t.” I wouldn’t risk them.
His pained grimace slashed through my being. His eyes glistened with his teeth as he pulled away. “Fine.”
I ran after him as he stormed from the room and turned down the hall. “Hugh, come back.”
I grabbed his arms as he charged towards her room. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t calm. My hands clawed at him as I frantically tried to drag him back to the safety of my bedroom. His shirt tore as I pulled. I shoved against him as he offered himself to his own demise.
His fist raised to bang on her door. I stepped back as desperation fueled me. I flung myself at him, throwing my entire body against his. He grunted as I knocked him out of reach before his arms grasped me.
My fury sparked as he lifted me onto his shoulder. He fumed back to my bedroom with curses sewn together on his shaking voice. I flew onto the bed. His silhouette trembled above me. “You have no right to do that.” I scrambled to my knees.
I flinched away from the deadly rage in his eyes as he leaned toward me. “What are you going to do about it? Wait and hope this stops? How has that been working for you?”
“I go home in a week, Hugh. If you had even a semblance of patience I could have told you.” I tasted the bitterness of the recent past. It grew in my heart and spewed from my mouth, “I know I’m an imposition. I’m sorry. You don’t have to help anymore. You owe me nothing, don’t touch me,” the words shrieked from my throat as his arms came around me.
He pinned my arms to my sides as I struggled. A palm lifted to cover my mouth. “Fucking stop, Olvia. Be quiet.” I reared back my head and he saw the threat.
He held me tight to his chest to restrain me as we struggled beneath the canopy. He clasped my wrists and pulled them above my head as my legs whipped out. My knee met his jaw and he growled but remained calm as he glared down.
I tried to push him away with my legs but his body was too stubborn. All of the animosity in my bones from the months past awakened and aimed at him for no other reason than his provocation.
“Calm down,” he hissed as he fought to protect himself from me while taming my wild fit. “You’re going to wake Elizabeth.”
His deep voice grappled my mind and threw me back into my sanity. I gasped against the rage, gaining control. “I’m sorry.”
“Shut up.” I stared up at him. His words pierced the sadness with anger again but the desperation in him quieted my body. “You’re not an imposition, Olivia. Please, never say that again. It’s impossible to watch you live through this.” His fingers loosened on my wrists and he collapsed onto the bed next to me, drained. Tears thickened his voice, “I hate having to watch this.”
My heart shattered for the grief I caused him. His fingers gathered the cloth around my hips again, inch by inch. Guilt smothered me as I pulled him to rest his head on my chest. “I’ll be safe soon,” I promised into his hair. Doubt danced in his expression. “I’ll be home,” I reminded him.
“I’ll go ahead and start stocking up on cheese,” he growled as he sat up.
I smirked up at him and let my fingers slide through his fat curls. They spilled down the back of his neck, covered his ears, and fell into his face. His eyes darted away. “What is it?” I asked.
Regret weighed his features as his fingers grasped mine and pulled my wrists to his lips. “I didn't mean to be rough, I’m sorry.” I watched as though separate from the moment. He took my other hand and apologized again as his tears fought with his pride. “I didn’t know how to make you realize what’s happening to you. You assumed I was going to hurt you when I tried to hold you. She’s done this to you.”
It took too long for me to find my voice through the pain in my throat. “I’ve never snapped before.” He wrapped himself around me. His lips graced every inch of my arms as his words of sorrow spilled. I turned into him, feeling his chest heave as his whispers sank into my hair and skin.
He did everything in his power to hold me above the torment. I repaid his loving attention and sacrifices with ignorance and naivety. He risked so much for me. Every time he brought me the bag he threw away hours of sleep and chanced getting caught.
Even when my mind unhinged and I fought against him he restrained me, holding me without pain. The young man constantly grappling with his own patience remained calm for me. There was no amount of penance I could do to be worthy of him.
His voice was quiet, threatening, and comforting as he whispered, “I want to break her for breaking you.” His fingers wrapped in my hair as my heart tore open.
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I didn’t hear him leave my bed. When I woke I could still feel his arms around me, his lips against my skin, and hear his deep voice lulling me into a place of comfort.
I froze as the harsh tone that didn’t belong to my happy memory shattered the nostalgia, “What is this?”
I sat up quickly and swallowed against nausea and waves of fear. I hadn’t put the bag away the night before. She stood by the dresser with it clutched in her claws. “Grandmother, I can explain.” My mind raced as she hunched forward. Her teeth gritted as she stalked towards me. “I’ve been so hungry. I collected a few things. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t mean to get caught,” she screeched as she lunged.
The heavy bag connected with my ribs. I scrambled away but her hands hooked my ankles. I lurched from the bed and rolled onto the hardwood. I scrambled up and dashed to the door as my heart stuttered and vision sharpened. Her hands snatched at my arms. Her nails bit deep into my flesh.
She pulled me into the room and flung me back. My face hit the poster of the bed. I tasted the blood gushing from above my eye as the room began to spin.
The door slammed closed but the room wouldn’t still. The dizzying ringing in my ears grew louder. I slumped onto the floor as I fought to find something to hold onto.
I woke with my head feeling too heavy.next to a pile of my own vomit. Blood caked my hair, face, and floor. The throbbing above my eye had yet to subside even as the sun began its descent into the horizon.
I trembled as I stood. I clutched the sink but couldn’t remember how I managed to get to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and sat in the bottom of the stall, letting the water rinse the crimson away.
When I stood and dressed I was more stable. It was likely I missed dinner. There would have been nothing for me to eat regardless. Still, I planned to scavenge and hoped she was calmer. I grasped the knob of my bedroom door but it wouldn’t turn. I stared down at the useless keyhole.
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I laid for days in the stifling room. I tried not to move and waste too many precious calories. I prayed for death to take me but he refused to come. I lost count of the hours and nights as my mind faded into unrealistic dreams of a future. Maybe they would have been possible had I never been exposed to the mansion.
Insanity crept into my mind at times to offer a frightening relief as I laughed at the stains in the floor. I stared at the strange ring on the post of the bed where the wood was scratched and scraped away. I never noticed it before. What did Mother do to create it?
No food was offered. I wasn’t given the chance to reject my morals anymore. The days ticked by. I debated on eating the toilet paper, my hair, or even my nails. Nothing sounded sane or helpful.
I could do nothing but pray. I prayed for my soul, knowing I couldn’t last long. I prayed for mercy, for Stan, and Hugh. I began to believe I was truly forgotten. I wept, consumed with defeat.
As I laid with my eyes shut tight, listening to the rolling thunder and trying to deny the threatening tears, I heard the click of the releasing lock.
Chapter 17- Bruise
I sat up in shock as Elizabeth entered the room illuminated by the light of the moon. “Are you ready?” She asked. Her voice was almost kind. Her calm demeanor terrified me but the naive, sad child of my soul saw hope.
My body slipped from the bed to the floor as I tried to stand. She smiled down at me. I was finally where she always claimed I deserved to be- beneath her. The expression was full of genuine benevolence. She was undoubtedly insane but maybe somewhere in her hateful body, she held compassion.
She laid the covered platter on the floor next to me and stepped back. She closed the door and leaned against it to watch. I tried not to gag at the scent as I lifted the lid. Even in my starvation, I couldn’t find death appetizing.
I almost pushed the steak away. I almost chose my own death over the unnecessary sacrifice. She could see it. Her voice was soft as she prompted, “The animal is already dead. Go ahead. Eat this and I will let you leave to see your manservant. I have a car waiting right now.”
A hand squeezed my heart. Home. I gulped as I lifted the knife and fork. I cut into the brown meat and tried not to focus on the sensation. I lifted the bite to my mouth and clamped my eyes closed.
Tears flooded my face and I chewed as little as possible. I dug the tip of the knife into my thigh to distract from the taste and reality. I swallowed and gulped the glass of water on the tray. My heart ached and screamed apologies to the carcass. I was betraying every kind, furry soul that had been a part of my life.
I looked to Elizabeth, begging her for it to be enough. “All of it.” Her voice was no longer kind. Her eyes, hot with triumph, made me want to take the knife and plunge it into myself. I wanted to finish what she obviously desired to end- me. I wanted to yield to her wicked smile.
Home, I reminded myself. I looked at the meat and weighed it in my mind. My stomach felt as though it was bucking as I lifted another bite. Acid surged through my chest as I tried to swallow. I reached for the empty water glass as the two bites I attempted rushed back up into my throat. My body shivered and I begged for her to make it stop.
Her voice snapped at me, “Continue.” I shook my head in answer. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
My back arched at the sharp sting crossing it. A shocked shriek clawed from my chest. I spun to see her lifting a thin leather belt above her head.
The sobs choked my screams, “Please. STOP!”
The lashes rained down harder and harder until it felt as though the heat in my back could make the sun shrink. “Continue,” she sang as she danced back to the door. The bounce in her step was more frightening than the belt.
I covered my nose, desperate not to taste. I couldn’t see through the tears as I lifted another bite. I swallowed and shoved in another. Three more bites were attempted before the need to vomit arose again.
My glass overflowed as I held it beneath my retching mouth. I stared down at my plate with dismay. It was almost gone but for the two bites splattered in the partially digested bits from my stomach. She saw my hesitation as defiance.
I gasped and tried to claw my way across the floor as the belt slashed down. Her words distorted my mind as she screamed how disgusting and revolting I was. I believed her.
The heavy buckle connected with my spine, heels, and skull. I fell to the floor, curled into a ball, and covered my head with my arms to protect myself as the buckle hammered against my fragile bones.
Her hand gripped my hair and dragged me across the floor back to the plate. Shock locked my throat and body. I couldn’t rationalize enough to simply beg for release.
She pointed down at the plate, “Eat.” I trembled in dehydration and fatigue. Every muscle screamed and my throat burned with invisible fire. I lifted the smaller of the two bites and tried to swallow it before I could taste the vomit.
“That’s enough,” she hissed with pleasure and disgust.
I was on my hands and knees retching on the floor. She watched me writhe in pain. My stomach hurt worse than before. I prayed for death. I cried for it, wept for it, but not even death loved me.
“You know,” she began, swinging the belt back and forth in her hand. “We found a young man who was more than happy to help meet our need to find a suitable slice of flesh for you.”
Her voice sang again as it pulled my mind closer to the world. I wasn’t even disappointed. I couldn’t find the strength to be upset that Hugh gave in. I cradled myself and tried to block her out.
Her words pulled my heart back into place with excruciating pain, “The young Beau. I remembered he was fond of hunting. His father is an old friend of mine. Didn't you know that’s why they moved there? Beau procured this venison specifically for you.” The evil grin spread across her face until it seemed her cheeks would crack. “He said you would be particularly ‘fawned’ of this sacrifice. He’s quite charming.”
I looked at the plate and the splattered vomit. My heart decimated as the realization sunk it. “No. You didn’t.”
She stepped closer to loom over me as my mind closed in. Time stopped as the betrayal began to maim through me. I wanted to succumb to its fangs and sink beneath the vile abyss.
Sobs ripped through my body as I dug through the mess, trying to find the pieces of meat. They looked like beef. She was lying.
I held the precious, distorted being in my hands that was torn apart at her will as grief rolled through me. The remainder of my sanity fell away. I knew no matter how I cried or how I tried to put the pieces of the mutilated being back together, I had failed them.
She bent to stare into my face, “Leave this house. I don’t want our guests to see such an abomination at Christmas.” She turned and walked from the room with a prideful swing in her hips. She turned and flashed a smile back to me, “Be back early January or the buck will fall next.” She slammed the door closed behind herself as my world caved in.
Chapter 18- Stirred
The deafening thunder from the snowstorm, the blinding darkness of the room, and the vile stench of vomit and meat trapped me in the hell that was my life. I was a disastrous sort of plague all on my own. The simple act of existing was overwhelming. I needed it to stop. I needed to simply cease.
Whether it was her who drove me to those ideations, or if I was truly worthy of such self-loathing I wasn’t yet sure. That realization alone lent me a modicum of strength.
