9. Ivy #2
The terror in her eyes is spectacular, but I can’t enjoy it. The palpable fear of what happened to me last night is still clinging to me.
“Do your loving parents know that you’re about to cause their downfall?”
I pretend to mull it over, as if I’m really concerned, but I can already guess.
Beverly thinks she has the perfect life.
Perfect husband. Perfect daughter. Perfect reputation.
But it was all bought in blood and the screams of an abandoned newborn baby.
She discarded everything that didn’t fit in her plan, to build a life she wanted.
Public servants and socialites by day. Underhanded, evil, and malicious greed behind closed doors, selling daughters to monsters and reaping the benefits by night.
No wonder Melissa did this.
Her own parents have no reservations or morals. Why should she have any when she hasn’t seen an example?
Either way, that isn’t an excuse. She’s old enough to know better.
She simply doesn’t care and those are the worst kinds of people, manipulating other people to get what they want.
“Y-you!” Melissa cries, pointing at my face. “You’re obviously making things up just to slander me!”
“Oh sweetheart, we can’t have anyone falsely accuse you of such illicit behavior,” I soothe mockingly.
“That’s why I said the police, likely the Special Victims Unit, will do a thorough investigation.
I trust that the senator’s ‘good’ work over the last few years of upholding justice in the state of New York will not fail us. ”
Even if I really did go to the police here, I’m sure Senator Hughes would find a way to bury everything, but if push really comes to shove, I’ll pull some strings.
I don’t have friends in extremely high places for nothing…
But of course Melisa hasn’t thought that far, judging by the way she starts quivering with fear.
“Well, before you can do that, I’ll have your face plastered all over the internet!” she threatens weakly, making me laugh.
“Go right ahead.”
“What?” Melissa pauses and looks at me as if she’s dumbfounded.
“I said, go ahead.” I walk away and plop my ass on the suede chaise lounge below the stairs, watching my sister. “Have at it. We look almost identical to people who don’t know any better, so guess who they’ll immediately think it is?”
“You… you’re crazy!” she shouts.
“Why? For being a nobody?” I scoff. “Thanks to your parents and that plan of yours of using me, my identity is close to nonexistent. Go ahead, baby girl! Not only will you be helping my criminal case, but the story will be so sensational! Jordan Peele couldn’t write a better script!”
I can’t help but laugh coldly when I see the look on Melissa’s face. It’s like she’s just been slapped across the face. Hard.
“You’re not really smart, are you?” I say mockingly, watching her as she trembles.
“And to think just a week ago, all I thought of you was how kind and sweet you were to track me down, bring me to reunite with my father, but not only did I meet him, I also met the woman who birthed me whom I believed was dead. Who knew you’d also give me this gift of clarity? ”
From the moment Melissa sent me those bloodcurdling images, I decided to be calm and really think about everything that happened from the perspective of gains and losses.
Actually, my state of mind is all thanks to Emmett.
No one in this world knows how to shock my system back to earth and completely wake me up like Emmett does.
It’s just that before, I stubbornly refused to face reality and held on to my pipe dreams.
I kept my mind firmly stuck in made-up worlds where I would make him tell me all the sweet nothings I was desperate to hear, hold my hand, and tell me that he loves me.
Astraea is now pursuing a master’s in behavioral psychology.
She once told me about maladaptive daydreaming, an undiagnosed mental disorder that has a strong potential of ruining one’s life if left unguarded.
Losing touch with reality starts off as escapism, yes, but overdrawn bouts of this state can make one’s mind move from just wishes to complete delusion.
Anyone can easily get addicted to the fantasies they create in their heads and form emotional and psychological attachments to fake scenarios.
The crazy thing is, we don’t intentionally set out to lose ourselves but rather to find comfort and some semblance of joy in a life we have full control over.
What if my life was like this instead, with such and such people, walking a certain path filled with laughter, good intensity, passion, joy, peace, and protection?
One scenario that started when I was a child… later became an entire world.
Every time I was alone, bored, or about to sleep, I’d daydream and pretend.
I even had full-on conversations by myself, laughing at responses I’d make up in my head.
Because in my head, unrequited love wasn’t a thing.
Being abandoned was not intentional.
But, none of that is true.
Emmett has never loved me.
I was intentionally abandoned to be sold later.
Believing daydreams is a soul-crushing pain that I’m now experiencing, so much so that I can barely breathe.
The false hope I fed myself… when reality comes toppling that world, the indescribable, endless sorrow sinks into your bones and stays forever when you realize how cruel you were being to yourself when you thought you were helping yourself cope.
“What do you want?” Melissa’s question brings me back to the now.
I look at her, studying her expression.
“I’m disappointed.”
“What?”
“I was hoping your cruelty would go all out. After all, it takes a special kind of evil to endorse and even plan another girl’s rape, but here you are wanting to negotiate. How pathetic.”
Pain swells up in my chest like a high tide.
I have friends that were brutally raped and molested, robbed of their childhood and had no one to rely on or help them when they needed it most.
Last night, I was drugged, sexually assaulted, and if Emmett hadn’t tracked me down, I would’ve ended up in a worse state.
“Rape is the murder of a person’s soul.” I clench my fists tightly to stop myself from mauling this girl.
“A sheltered girl like you only cares about the advantage you can win in your social circle. You don’t even care about shredding someone else’s dignity, self-worth, identity, and their soul into pieces of nothingness. ”
I stare at her, getting even more livid and disappointed than I thought I would be.
I just met this girl, but I didn’t think I’d be so hurt by her betrayal to this point, but here we are.
“You want to know what I want?” I repeat her earlier words. “I want to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
Melissa gasps.
“I want to show you what it means to be destroyed by darkness,” I say softly.
“You think you can pop your little pills, snort a line here and there, have wild parties, get white-girl wasted, and then go back to your regular high echelon life as the adored Miss. Melissa Hughes, daughter of Senator and Mrs. Hughes. Untouched. Blameless. Cute and enviable. But I want to show you what you really are.”
I saunter over slowly to where she stands like a statue in a blizzard.
Plastering on the most genuine-looking smile on my face, I lean closer to look her straight in the eye.
“Sister, I’m glad we reunited, and I apologize for how rude I’ve been since we met.
I promise that from now on, I’m going to do my very best to accommodate your character, lifestyle, and behavior.
” I smile and reach over to tuck her curly tendril of hair behind her ear.
“I also promise to be the best sister ever, so much so that even in death, you will remember me.”
And with that, I turn on my heels and leave, going in search of my next target.