VIII.

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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ
ʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍɪʟɪᴀᴛᴇs ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ

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  LOUD THUDS AGAINST her door, rumbling her from sleep. Throwing on her silk dressing gown, she headed her way to the back door. It couldn't have been later than seven, the sun barely peaking above the rows of houses. But she soon realised that it wasn't someone knocking, not when the wood around the lock began to splinter. Somebody was trying to break down her door. And before she could grab her revolver, three burly men had bashed their way through the door. She froze. The next thing she felt was her back smacking against the solid wood floor, knocking the air out of her chest. Everything felt like a blur. She watched as they bounded about her room, completely flipping her things without a single care. All she could make out was the hats that sat on top of each of their head: officers. As her senses came back to her, she began to move as she just wanted out of there. But the swift bat of one of their hefty hands struck the side of her face as they shouted for her to stay down.

This is exactly what she meant. No matter what status she gained in this life, there would always be a man ready to torment and humiliate her. Look down on her. They would put their hands on her because it made them feel so strong, being able to watch someone cower beneath you. There was no need for their violence but she was on her own, an easy target. But she could scream about this reality and it would be passed off as a silly little fear. Why would a man need to prove them self? They ask. It comes down to their own inferiority. Men should have it all. And when that's challenged, they rely on the only thing that they can best you at. Violence. Now, it's not the only cause. Some men act out merely because they can. Who is to stop them? That was the issue. No one would. Better them than ones self. And if someone speaks up, there's always the gain of being commendable. Even the most supportive man will take something of a woman, for nothing but their own gain.

As she laid, held down and face stricken, she wondered how she had gone full circle in just a few short years. Though she hadn't been able to get back her vibrant youth that came accompanied with a life of luxury, she felt her little orphaned self make a reappearance. Bruised and bleeding on the harsh numbing floor as the blade of sunlight cut through the dim room that she rot in.

Hearing heavy footsteps climb the metal staircase, the two men who wrecked her room froze but the third kept his heavy boot pressed into the cavity of her chest. It was hard to breath, she felt herself squirm to try and get free from the past ten minutes of agony. It felt longer if she was honest. As the large figure shadowed her tensed body, she wondered if revenge was truly worth all torment. She should've stayed at the commune, found peace. But with all that silence, she'd have only drove herself insane.

   "Find anything?" That accent was thick, she could recognise it in her delirium. One of the spare Officers must have shook their head. "You're dismissed, Gentleman." But that foot didn't move from her chest. There was a few more footsteps and a stern voice rang out. "You're dismissed." And suddenly she felt light. Peeling over, she let out a throaty cough as she tried not to choke on the sudden rush of oxygen. His presence still lingered as he watched her gasp and splutter, completely weak. So when her body was lifted by the throat, she had no energy to fight back as she looked at the man in the bowler hat. Never had she seen such evil hidden behind a man's eyes. "Now, Miss Harper, I believe we can get along well. I tried to be nice, last night. You gave me the shoulder. I can make your life hell." The Inspector said, dropping her to the floor once more. She had tearful eyes as she stared up at him. All of this because she wouldn't speak with him, alone. "You'll be beginning for Father Anthony when I'm through with you!" He declared, watching as her face drained. A smirk forming on his face in return. He knew. Even if it was just her time in the Orphanage, he knew. But there was no time to wallow, he carried her under his arm as he made his way onto the street. Violently dropping her in the middle of the cobbled road, it felt like every eye was on her. They were. In a sense they feared for themselves, they'd allowed a Harper to be hurt on their territory.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 || Peaky BlindersWhere stories live. Discover now