Chapter 84 SCARRED
THEO'S POINT OF VIEW.
Her name was Luna…just Luna. I hadn’t bothered learning her last name, because I’d been too focused on what was going on at home. She was the daughter of the school’s janitor, who always had a sandwich ready for me during lunch. It was like she knew my father had starved me at home for weeks, so she had food ready for me every day.
I’d eat it alone in class when everybody else had gone to play, because if I had eaten it where anyone would see, my father would know about it immediately.
I remember how she always had her brown hair slipped into small pigtail braids, and how her small dress always had some food stains on it. The freckles that were scattered across her cheeks like small dots that I always thought would transfer to my hands if I touched her.
I’d tried to ignore her and just focus on school, and the desire to be out of the hell that was my father’s mansion, but she was stubborn. She was always ready and waiting for me at lunch time with her small pink Barbie bag filled with different snacks.
The first time she showed me the contents of the bag, my eyes grew as wide as saucers, and my belly rumbled so loud that it hurt like my intestines were turning.
I remember the taste of her ham sandwich. It was dry, and the bread was not cut evenly, but I enjoyed every bite of it…because my father had starved me, and my mother for being a minute late for dinner. Even though he had broken her leg, she could not walk as fast as she wanted to.
The mistake I made…was getting attached.
I began to look forward to seeing her at school. To the point that the moment the school’s bell rang for lunch, my heart would begin to beat faster in anticipation at the thought of being with her again, of eating what she would bring for me. I always played the guessing game.
Would it be a sandwich? Or Spaghetti dish?
And she never disappointed me, always arriving as soon as the coast was clear, and she could come in.
“Why do you always have these scars on your hands?” She had asked one day when my sleeves had ridden up too much. The sandwich in my hand suddenly became too stale in my mouth, as dread filled me.
If she knew what was going on at home, would she stop being me this food?
Would she hate me?
Will my lunch time become as gloomy as before?
I hated the thought of having to go back to the crippling hunger, of the pain in my stomach every time I watched someone eat from the windows.
“Nothing. I accidentally hit my mother’s hot iron while playing too roughly.” The lie rolled smoothly off my tongue, and luckily, she believed me. Because all she did was nod and look ahead. I munched on the bread and butter sandwich silently, too scared that she would snatch the food from my hands the minute she realized I’d lied.
But I should have known….nothing ever stays a secret with my father…he’d find out eventually.
I remember the feel of the air in the dining room, as we all gathered to watch him eat, dressed in our white clothes. He had this ritual when he was starving us, where no one was allowed to touch the food placed in front of them, but we would watch him eat huge portions of his own food. I remember the sight of my mother’s pale face and dry lips as she fought tears while watching him.
I was thirteen at the time, and all I wanted to do was slit his throat.
“So…Theo, I hear something interesting has been going on at school.” He said, slicing his roast pork, before taking a piece into his mouth.
“No father. It’s the same as before.”
“Really What about Luna?” He said, filling my bones with dread, as I stared at him with my mouth slightly agape. I quickly schooled my features and swallowed.
“She’s just a friend, sir,” I said, my voice low as I avoided his eyes. He hated when we did that.
“I can see it in you.” He said, his voice much harder, losing the chilling tone it had earlier. “That weakness.” He spat and turned to my mother. “It’s the same one your mother and her ancestors had. And now, you have it too.”
I needed his attention away from her, so I spoke quickly, scared that he would hurt her again. “No father. I’ll stop talking to her.”
He smirked, dropping his cutlery. “I don’t think that’ll be enough. I need to cleanse you of that weakness in your blood, as soon as possible.”
My blood ran cold as I stared at him.
I knew exactly what that meant….my mother did too, because I heard the sharp inhale of her breath.
The next day, Luna wasn’t at school, and neither was her pink bag of food. I walked into the mansion, my belly rumbling with hunger, but it was her voice that filled that same belly with oce.
“Theo!” She had exclaimed excitedly, making me turn to the direction her voice came from, and the sight that greeted me almost made me faint. “Your father said you wanted me to visit.”
She had giggled, and my father stood behind her with a sick smile on his face.
“Luna….” I whispered, breathing out in fear, and turned to my father. “Please, I’ll never look at her ever again…I’ll make sure I keep my distance, just please…not this one too.”
“I told you yesterday that weakness…it will destroy you, and I cannot have my blood be weak. You’ll learn to thank me soon, because what I do for you, you’ll do to your own someday.”
What happened after that was fragments, all I can remember, if Luna split throat, and the way her blood flowed endlessly to the floor, before she fell with a sick plop.
Dead.
And it was that moment that I swore to never have attachments with any girl, not while my father was alive.
But his calling Seraphina’s name….it drew me back, but it filled me with a fire my thirteen-year-old self wished he had. Because I swore to myself that Phillip Kingswell would be six feet under, before he ever touched a hair on Seraphina’s head…even if I have to kill him myself.
I will be my father’s sick son by taking the threat out.