WHIRLPOOL. ❪ Lily Evans ❫ ✓

one

Effie Evanescence hated the feeling of hands around her body. She had horrible memories of large, callused hands around around her upper thigh, added with the onion breath that came out of a talkative mouth. It was the reason as to why she disliked the smell, taste, and mere appearance of an onion.

The large, callused hands that touched her was an often occurrence, whether in her nightmares or her reality. To her, both were the same. She would wake up in hot sweats from those nightmares, yet experience a cold sweat in real life.

Gods didn't exist for her. All she knew were lies, sadness, and disappointment. Words whispered by others were always full of white lies and pity. Food given to her out of pity were always taken away from her by the man with large, callused hands, but he would always call her "good girl."

When she was young, she believed him because she really was a good girl. She played nicely with other children in their town, talked respectfully to adults, and ran errands for her family happily. She never complained or demanded more toys. She knew her place.

When the woman with pretty, dainty hands left her to go on an adventure, Effie said goodbye with a smile on her face, expecting the woman to come back. Effie waited day after day, week after week. Months turned into years and she stopped expecting the woman with pretty, dainty hands to come back.

The man with large, callused hands turned to Effie one night. The kind smile he once wore had disappeared long ago, and while he had been fighting the impure thoughts, he could not hold it in any longer.

On the first night he caught her in his trap, she struggled. After the first hit, she screamed. After the first kick, she cried. After the appearance of cut-up shards, the went silent because she learned of her new place.

She was no longer free to smile or laugh. She only did so when he told her to because he claimed he liked her smile. He said it reminded me of a sunny day with a nice breeze. He liked her laugh as well because it sounded like a group of fairies giggling into his ears.

Effie was his pretty doll. That was her role, and she knew that early on because she too had played with dolls before. When she saw pretty things, she soon began to dislike them because it hurt her deeply.

Then, the day of her letter came. The man with large, callused hands struck her hard when he caught sight of it. He knew well of what the letter contained and he despised it. That night, when he played with her, he was rough. When he fell asleep, she got out of the bed, said goodbye permanently, and left the house.

She knew her place, but a sudden impulse brought her to the train station. It was too late for any trains to be running, but she sat down on the bench, feeling some sort of peace for the first time since she was born.