Her heart-shaped face glows with a vitality far from the emaciated strung-out junkie in the video weeks ago. Her once gaunt cheekbones, now full, have a rosy hue.
“Aren’t you going to greet me,Daughter?” The venomous way she says daughter feels like a punch in the tit.What the fuck?
I want to ask why she’s here or if this is some mistake, but I don’t want to waste a breath I might need at the end of my life on the likes of this mess in front of me.
My mother’s spirit left the day my dad went missing, and I tried to hold out for her return, but she’s dead inside.
“It would seem your time in isolation hasn’t done much for your manners. Your father is to blame for that,” she states, like the mention of him sours her taste buds.
I continue to bite my tongue, my silence my only weapon.
Not deterred by my insolence, she strolls deeper into the room. Her coral suit perfectly outlines her petite pear frame, which is lengthened by her sky-high stilettos. If I wasn’t so annoyed at the cunt who birthed me, I’d tell her she looks immaculate, but she can break a heel and twist her kneecap on the way down.
“The time has come for you to fulfill your birthright. I’ve sacrificed far too much for you to fuck this up for us.”
Us?Sighing, I roll my eyes at another group having some nefarious plan for my fucking life. At least the other group never chained me to a goddamn wall.
“Do you know how many generations have planned to get us to this very moment,” she babbles on.
Generations?My damn curiosity can’t take anymore.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice a little scratchy from lack of use.
“She speaks.” My mother turns, striding gracefully toward me and stopping so she’s still five feet away from any attempted stealth attack I might have been planning to utilize. “I was truly beginning to think we were going to need to increase our tactics,”
Increase our tactics?
“What the fuck could be worse than someone getting raped?” My stomach churns at the thought of what happened here only days ago.
Her head jerks back as if I struck her, but she quickly smooths out her features.
Did she not know what happened in here?
My mother’s slender hand reaches up to adjust the broach on her jacket, focusing my attention on the profile of a skull wearing a gold military-styled headpiece circa the Roman Empire.
What is it with these people and fucking skulls?
The broach is not something I’d expect to see paired with her outfit. Hell, I’ve never seen her with a broach in my life.
Squatting just out of my reach, she whispers, “Far worse things can happen in this place, Daughter. You’ve been sheltered far too long. It’s time you recognize your power and the prominent position in which you’ve been placed.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I yell, exasperated at the continuous subliminal messages I’ve received since I stepped foot in Edgewood.
“Temper, temper, my dear,” her tone condescending. “We’ll have to work on that if you’re to come fully into your true potential.”
She stands, dusting off invisible dirt from her pants before continuing, “You must not remember my words before the prick to your neck.”
Seeing the confusion in my scrunched face and arched eyebrows, she titters a laugh, only growing my frustration with this whole damn conversation.
Clapping her hands, gleeful at whatever this news is she’s about to unload, her candy apple red-covered lips break into a wide smile, brilliant white teeth a stark contrast to her lipstick. “Let me have the distinct pleasure of reintroducing you to who you really are,” she pauses for annoyingly too long. “Ariah Elaine Bradford,” she singsongs.
At the mention of that name, the block on the night of the party is lifted. I see the moment my mom comes into the clearing by the gazebo. I turned, expecting to ream Lev out for not taking the hint, only to be greeted by a woman I thought was hurt or dead somewhere. But she wasn’t. She was standing in front of me like a proud fucking peacock, preening, right before I felt the prick and her call me by someone else’s last name.
“That’s not my name,” I grit through clenched teeth, holding out hope that this is part of this mindfuck, another way for whoever they are to mess with me more.
My denial makes her laugh fully. My life is being tilted on its axis, fodder for her amusement.
“Oh, you poor stupid girl. You truly believe you’re a Bishop, don’t you?”
