𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝟒 | fin.

jin - request (pt 1)

GLASS HEARTS

- in which an old mirror in your room shows you more than the reflection of a broken girl; requested by @TheAlmighty_AJ

You straighten your back in surprise, craning your neck to get a better look at the house you will soon have to call home, its sheer size intimidating yet inviting. Instinctively, you cradle your small box of belongings closer to your chest, releasing the breath that you didn't even realise you were holding.

"Are you just going to stand there?" you hear from behind you, the venom laced in between the words enough to have fear clawing devilishly at your spine. Obediently, you bow your head and turn in the direction of the voice, knowing what consequences will follow if you even dare look your stepmother in the eye.

"No, ma'am," you mumble, feeling your heart jump into your throat when her high heeled shoes appear in front of your ratty sneakers with a menacing stop. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"Good," she drawls, lowering her voice threateningly. "You have an hour to get inside and set up your room before I want you cooking and cleaning downstairs."

Pursing your lips together, you nod, wordlessly turning on your heels to brush past the movers and enter the house, hoping that no-one can see the glassiness of your eyes.

Your backpack bounces against your back as you climb the winding stairs that lead you to the small storage space that was decided to be your room. Of course, a house as big as this one has many other rooms for you to occupy but your stepmother is adamant about keeping you away from the family.

Your ears perk up at the sound of laughter, your curious self moving towards the railing of the stairs before you can stop yourself. You spot your stepmother with a radiant smile on her face as she helps your dad unpack a box full of kitchen towels, your two step sisters giggling close-by as they place a few kitchen stools around the island.

A dull ache spreads through your chest as you watch them enjoying themselves, hands balling up into tight fists as a few tears drop onto your warm cheeks at the far fetched idea of being able to join them and smile and laugh like you used to; anything to feel wanted.

Then, a viper-like gaze meets yours, jolting you back to reality.

"Get a move on, brat," your stepmother hisses loudly, attracting the attention of everyone else, their eyes clouded with a hate that matches their expressions. "An hour isn't as long as you think it is."

Barely sparing them a second glance, you gently open the door to your room, closing it behind you just as softly to avoid angering anyone further.

With a sigh of obvious relief, you turn to inspect the room, neatly placing your belongings onto the already made bed. Despite clearly not being in the mood, a grateful smile tugs at your lips, stretching them awkwardly as you take slow steps around the room.

Sure, it's small and smells faintly of bleach but the fact that it has enough space for you to move around and a small window that allows the pale golden light of the sun into the room has you deeming it a lot better than your old room which, in all honesty, wasn't much of a room and was more a thin space where you'd expect there to be brooms and vacuums.

Your stepmother had forced you out of your own room and shoved you into that place the minute she moved in with your dad. Of course, this was all after your biological mother found out that your dad had been playing family man with the lady who would soon become your stepmother while leaving her to take care of you all by herself.

Naturally, she left both you and him behind.

You took it to heart, so much so that your dreams were often plagued with visions of her from when you were a child, lungs closing in on themselves every time you awoke with tears cascading down your cheeks.