The Heart You Ignited

Two

*THUMP*

My back collides with the floor, causing me to scrunch my face in pain.
What in the world?!
My eyes fly open and I stare at Victoria's smirking face.
I swiftly stand up and don't even bother dusting my 'nightdress', which is just some old raggy cloth that I turned into some sort of nightdress.

"Good morning Rosalie" she says in that sickly sweet tone.
"I accidentally broke something, I need you to clean it" she yanks me by my wrist and drags me all the way to her room.

I stare at the shattered glass vase that's sitting on the floor, the carpet wet too.
"What are you waiting for, go clean it" she pushes me forward, causing me to stumble and fall to the floor, my hand landing on a glass shard. My jaw tightens and I hold the tears in as I ignore the pain in my palm, which is starting to bleed.
She leaves the room and I let out a shaky breath, picking up the glass shards with my bare hands, since Victoria most definitely wouldn't let me get a broom.

As I'm gathering the shards to the side, footsteps are heard from behind me. And they aren't light ones, they're heavy. Which could only be one person.

Father.

I pray silently as I hear the footsteps nearing Victoria's room, but of course my prayers aren't answered as my father's voice booms through the room.

"You useless girl! You dare break my daughter's things!?" His voice is loud, making me stand up and keep my head low.

Aren't I your daughter too.?

He moves towards me, my hands start trembling.
He balls my hair into his fist and forcefully lifts my head up, I bite back a yelp.

"Look at me you filthy bitch" his voice is low, eyes dark. His gaze alone makes my entire body shake out of fear.

I catch Victoria's face and find her grinning.

Why does my own family want to hurt me?
A question I've been asking myself every single day.

Father drags me out of Victoria's room by my hair, and all I can do is stumble around and walk as fast as I can to catch his pace.

He throws me into the Cobblestone cell that was outside, a place where we store all the old garden equipment.
A place where my father does as he wants to me

My back crashes into the wall and then a sudden pain on my stomach causes my eyes to water.

Don't cry.

A kick to my ribs. Twice. Three times.
I bite down my lip to hold in my scream that I so badly want to let out.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

Father grasps my hair and pulls me up, causing an intense headache to form.
He places a firm grip against my throat and throws a punch to the left side of my face.

Hold it in. Hold it in or you'll only get more.

He lets me go, and I fall to the ground. I barely manage to push myself into a sitting position with the throbbing pain that's getting worse every passing second.

I lift my head slowly, only to be met with my father's terrifying eyes.
He has such an ugly smile on his face. Like he's proud of what he did to me.
I don't even notice the metal pole he's holding until he lifts it over his head.
I don't even have time to process what happens when I feel like my skin is being lit on fire.

The metallic pole is so cold. So cold. But it's making me feel like I'm burning.

Continuous hits on my body. Over. And over. This agonizing pain feels never ending.

One hit to my head.

Three hits on my arms.

Five hits on my ribs.

Nine hits on my legs.

Seventeen hits on my back.

Do. Not. Cry.

I tell myself over and over. Like a prayer.

Don't cry or it will only get worse. Don't cry or he'll let you sleep in the dungeon with the criminals that want to hurt you. Don't cry or he'll starve you for two weeks. Don't cry or he'll beat you so hard you may unconscious for three days again. Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry. Don't cry.

I don't know how many rounds my father does. But I know that it was enough. More than enough.

"Pathetic, useless, bitch" my father's voice sounds so far away, yet he's right beside me.

My vision is so cloudy, so full of unshed tears that are begging me to let them out. But I don't. The ringing in my ear never stops. It keep ringing. Louder and louder.
He's wiping his hands against some cloth with a disgusting smirk on his face.
I try to focus my vision, I try to stay conscious.
I look into his eyes, to find any sort of remorse, or shame.
anything  that shows he regrets hurting me.

Nothing. I find nothing but satisfaction.

He leaves.
He's leaving me alone again.

I don't know why I'm surprised. He always leaves after he's done. Always.

But everytime he does, it hurts.
It really hurts.

I can't help but think, as I lay there on the cold, dirty ground, covered in my own blood and sweat,

what I did to deserve this.

• • • • •
A/N

Poor Rosalie. Why must I hurt my characters like this😭

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