Legendary // H.S

58.

TW// mentions of sexual assault. as always there will be resources at the end of the chapter. know that you are so so so loved, and i will always stand with you. many will try to silence those of us that have endured such hell, but together we are stronger.

*

'Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper'

*

I haven't spoken to her in a while. Maybe seven or eight months. Every time I hear her voice it sends me straight back to the scared and timid girl that cowered away from anyone that neared her. Even seeing her name as I searched through my phone was enough to remind me of the torment I had endured at her hands throughout my life.

It's not like I've had time to even consider contacting her as of late. My mind has been elsewhere. But now that I finally have to face what I've been happily distracting myself from, I can't say I'll ever be prepared.

My mother is not a kind person. Quite the opposite, really. A heart of stone and exterior rough like the walls of a fortified castle avoiding a siege. She's never been the type to show warmth or love; compassion isn't in her vocabulary. I've often wondered if something made her this way or if she was always like this, but if it is the latter then I can't imagine Dad ever falling in love with her. But he did. Entirely.

A devoted husband as far as I know. The type of person that would do anything for their family. He would sacrifice his dreams for someone else's, as he frequently did for me. Whenever I'd pull him up on it he'd tell me I was his dream, so it never mattered if he had to change the course of his life for me.

Mum couldn't care less about these things, though. It's her world and we are the unfortunate citizens of it. Victims of a tyrannical ruler that seeks to inflict pain on those who question them. Those that refuse to conform to her rules and regulations. It sounds dramatic to compare her to such a figure, but after enduring her behaviour for so long it's the only fitting description.

Growing up, she never cared for my existence. There was no fight for custody when her and Dad divorced. It was like she wanted to be completely rid of me. When I did see her I was often left to my own devices. On the odd days that she actually sat with me, it would always be filled with conversations surrounding how inadequate I am, how dreadful Dad is. Then, as I got older, the arguments began. She'd always pick fights with me because she enjoyed the belittling. Especially when Peter got involved. In her eyes he was a saint. I only saw them as the villains.

Then Peter attacked me, and somehow it all became worse. I stayed as far away from them as possible, yet their taunts continued. Phone calls, letters, posts online. Anything to discredit me and convince everyone that I was crazy. That I had a personal vendetta against Peter for not wanting me. As if I asked for it.

Dad's always pushed for a reconciliation between us. He just hates confrontation. But he knows deep in his heart it won't happen. I'll never forgive her, and I can't forget.

And now I have to talk to her. That was part of the deal with Harry. We visit his mum; I talk to mine. I am a woman of my word; my promises are always kept. However, it doesn't make it any easier. As he did before we saw Lily, I had tossed and turned through the night, barely able to close my eyes in fear of what monsters I would see when I did. They only shut for 15 minutes at a time, but that was enough to force me back into consciousness. Even as I woke in Harry's arms I could still smell the alcohol that lingered from Peter's pores the night it all happened. I could still hear the laugh from my mother when I tried to tell her about it.