Chapter 134 Hefty Past
Arabella didn’t react, didn’t question back either. Deep down, she foresaw this answer too. And wanted him to share.
Share the most gut-wrenching, the darkest complaint of his heart.
In expectation that sharing his pain might ‘fix’ their bond, their miserable lives, and revive the once golden soul.
“I… hurt everybody around me. I break the hearts of the people I cherish. I always have,”
Her fingers continued to caress him, his head on her laps, staring into nothingness while clinging onto her like a strong lifesource.
Her one action led her to summon the soul William locked flawless in the abyss of his heart.
Today, it gained freedom and stated things William gobbled in all these years.
“I was never a good son, a good brother, or a lover… I had always been useless. All I ever was was a… disappointment.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I wasn’t the person they told the world I was,” he choked out, his eyes snapping shut as the first memory broke through the surface.
“I was hateful. I was so full of venom that I cursed my own blood. I wished them dead, Arabella. I wished for it every night.”
“Why? Was your step mother… bad?” Arabella asked because she knew nothing about it, Helena never told about it.
“No…” He smiled coldly, shaking his head. “She was a dumb woman who always wanted to ‘fix’ things, to make them better,”
“It was my father.” He curled his hand in a powerless fist,
“He never did justice. All the things, love that should be mine was given to others.”
He finally decided to share his hefty past, “I was so hateful because of his injustice that I cursed my parents to die…”
“I HATE THEM! THEY ARE NOT MY SIBLINGS! I WISH THEY DIE!”
The scream tore from young William’s throat, raw and desperate. He stood in the center of the foyer, his small fists shaking.
“Enough!” The crack of the slap was louder than the scream.
William’s head snapped to the side, the copper taste of blood immediately filling his mouth. He didn't cry.
He glared up at his father through a curtain of messy hair.
“They are your siblings. And don’t you ever dare bring up your mother again. She was a mistake, William. A nuisance we are finally rid of.”
“Henry, please,” Lisa stepped forward, her hand reaching out but not quite touching William.
“Why can’t you just look at us as a family, William? If you just opened your heart, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.”
“NO!” William shrieked, recoiling from her, slapping her hand away.
“You are not my mother! They are not my family! I’ll tell everyone! I’ll tell the whole world you are liars!”
The second blow didn't come from a hand. It was his father’s belt, a sudden, whistling terror that threw him to the ground, frightening the child to the core.
“Damn kid,” Henry hissed, swinging again.
“Henry! Stop!” Lisa finally lunged, grabbing her husband’s arm.
“He is just a child! You can’t do this!”
“No, Lisa! He needs to learn. He is a stain in this house.” Henry shoved her back, his eyes burning with a cold, terrifying hatred as he looked at his son.
“It would have been better for everyone if he had died along with that woman.”
The words hit harder than the leather. ‘Died along with her’. His eyes were wide, heart pounding as the pain of his words pierced him.
“Henry!” Lisa cried out, finally pulling him away.
Henry straightened his shirt, his breathing heavy, looking at William with utter disgust.
“Lock him in his room. I don’t want to see his face until he learns to be grateful for the life I have given him.”
“Yes, Sir,” the maid whispered, scurrying forward to grab William’s arm.
William didn’t fight. He let himself be led away, his body numb, his heart already beginning to harden into the cage he would live in for the rest of his life.
He saw his life falling apart, he saw himself nowhere in their future.
Moments later, The door to the room creaked, a thin sliver of light cutting through the darkness where William sat huddled in the corner.
Twelve-year-old Luke stepped in first, balancing a silver tray with a bowl of soup and a thick slice of bread.
Behind him, nine-year-old Helena followed like a shadow, her eyes wide and watery, clutching a small, apple she saved from her lunch
"William?" Luke whispered, like always trying to win his brother’s heart.
"Father's gone to his study. We brought you something." He said expectantly, praying this might soften his heart towards them.
William didn’t look up. His hand clenching and unclenching with shining tears and Henry’s words ringing in his mind.
"Go away," he croaked.
"Please, William," Helena whimpered, stepping closer. She reached out to place the apple on the tray.
"Eat. You will feel better."
The word 'better' snapped something inside him.
He didn’t see two children trying to help, he saw the replacements. The living proof that his mother had been erased and soon he would too.
William lunged. With a violent sweep of his arm, he struck the tray.
CRASH.
The porcelain shattered. The soup splattered across the floor like an ugly stain, and the apple rolled into the dust.
Helena let out a small, terrified shriek, stumbling back into Luke, afraid of their brother’s wrath.
"I DON'T WANT YOUR TRASH!" William screamed, his face contorted, bursting into tears, hands shaking in fear violently.
"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" He sobbed, feeling more horrible.
"We were just-" Luke started, his lip trembling, holding his hand out.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
The two children scrambled out, the sound of their rapid footsteps echoing down the hallway like a heartbeat, leaving the depressed child all alone.
His heart was so… disheartened that it refused to hold a merest glimpse of hope.
William believed nothing in his life would get better and eventually he would be obliterated from this family picture.