My Mother's Daughter (Completed)

Chapter 3. The Talk

Alina

I blinked as sunlight poured in through the slight parting in the curtains. I winced retreating into the shadows on the other side of the bed. 

Morning already?  I just got to sleep an hour ago.

Sitting up I realised this wasn't the room I had gone to sleep in. The night before came rushing back. 

I gasped and clutched my chest. 

I-I fed on him.

Guilt, and shame washed over me like a cold shower. 

I recalled his words, and how he had soothed me and held me in his arms. Glancing down I could see he had tucked me into bed.

The kind gesture was foreign to me, but warmed me enough that the sharp coldness I had felt moments ago now didn't sting as much.

My mind wasn't as kind to me. My thoughts quickly jumped to conclusions. He would hand me over to the police now for sure. Why would he want to take care of a freak like me? I was a burden. He didn't need this. He had his own life to live. I was just an inconvenience he would soon dispose of.

I rose and slipped silently from his room. As I stood over the sink in the bathroom staring at my reflection with disdain, golden eyes filled with self loathing stared back at me. Ignoring my eyes I brushed my teeth twice before stepping into the shower. 

I stood in the steamy water for a long while. The whole room had filled with thick steam making the edges around everything blurred. The water pounded on my back relieving some of the tension there. I stared down at my raw wrists. It wasn't the first time they had been this way, and probably not the last. Especially if he turned me over to the police for attacking him last night.

It's time I face him. I can't hide here forever.

Leaving the shower I changed into my clothes he had washed from yesterday. I didn't have any others with me. Just my black dress that came down to my knees and frilled along the trim. The bodice of the dress was a bit tight with black buttons down the front. The long sleeves came to a point on the back of my hands. The scoop neck had white lace along the trim.

A necklace my mother gave me hung around my neck. My reflection in the mirror reached up to touch it. I fiddled with the heart shaped locket containing a photo of her holding me as a baby, before tucking it into my shirt.

After blow drying my hair with my uncle's purple drier, and brushing it until it was soft and shiny, I sat on the edge of the bed where I should have slept, and took my time lacing up my heeled ankle boots. When I was finished, I procrastinated no more and headed downstairs where I smelled something delicious. 

I found my uncle standing over the stove making omelets. He was sprinkling shredded cheese over the fluffy eggs. I looked at the ingredients piled on the counter. Peppers, onions, fresh spinach, chunks of cooked ham, and thick cuts of bacon. It smelled tasty.

Clearing my throat to make my presence known, I stood awkwardly unsure of what to say. I didn't want to scare him anymore than I already had. Despite what my father said, I didn't want to be a monster.

"I wasn't sure what you like in your omelette." He rubbed the back of his neck revealing a bandage on the side. A fresh wave of guilt welled up inside of me.

It really did happen.

I fed on him.

I am a monster. Father was right.

Searching for anything else to look at, I took a moment to study him. He was wearing black jeans, a black quarter sleeved shirt and boots. His long hair was tied back at the nape of his neck to keep it out of his way as he cooked.