Chapter 33 Louisa #2
Quickly my mother is before me, her hand outstretched before a slap echoes off the cottage walls.
“You are so entitled. It is as true as the sun sets and the moon rises each night that respect is not given, it is earned. You are given respect when you give it. It is not bestowed upon you. It is given when you care for others, but all you have done is care for yourself. You strived for the attention of being pregnant, and when that did not suit you anymore, you gained the attention you desired from another man—a man who is also the enemy . You fell right into his trap. He read you like a book and wrote out the tale of your demise because of your lack of awareness. I pity you, daughter. You had your own husband killed when that man truly loved you—you refused to accept the love he gave, for you wanted a worshiper, not a partner. You are not a goddess but a mortal. You should respect the life that has been bestowed upon you.”
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP, SHUT UP! Always fucking lecturing me, you old hag!” I shout in her face, my teeth out like the crazed animal I am.
“You killed dad?” Freddy’s pathetic voice sounds from beside me. Of course he would be upset about that. He admired his father. His father was his hero. Makes me want to gag.
A hateful voice rings out, louder than Freddy’s. “ You set up Tilly and Brielle to be kidnapped. You drove the ambulance?” Bobby’s face is dark. His eyes are unrecognizable and filled with violence. He grasps the tops of Freddy and I’s heads, as he squats abruptly, forcing our faces into the floor.
Then he continues relentlessly slamming our faces into the ground. Splinters settle in my cheek and nose. I can feel the blood rushing from my nasal passage as the metallic taste flows into my mouth.
“You fucking cunts!” Bobby yells. Then I feel his hands release from my hair as someone pulls him off of us.
Rolling to my side I peer up to see Jacob—holding Bobby back as he thrashes within his grasp. “Let me at them! Kill ’em now! I’ll kill ’em with my bare fuckin’ hands!” He looks like a bloody madman.
Everett is looking down at me. If I didn’t know any better it would almost look like pity.
An actual form of tender emotion toward me, but it is pity, instead of remorse or love.
Just pity . “Greg, Kenneth. You and some of the boys take Mother to the station. Make sure she gets on the train. Her luggage is packed and in the back of the Crossley out front. Make sure she gets to her destination and doesn’t try to run anywhere else,” Everett orders as the men reply in unison, “Yes.”
I’m lifted off the floor by an Adder as I see a black shadow rush toward Frederick.
Bobby springs toward Freddy, his knife plunging into the side of Freddy’s neck. Bobby drags it down to the collarbone, blood spurting across his maddened face. Then he lunges toward me, but his arms are caught by Kenneth and George .
“Brother, she ain’t worth it,” Kenneth states, glaring down at me.
“Bobby.” Everett stands behind him, one hand on his shoulder, as Bobby’s chest is heaving. His eyes are crazed as he looks at me, calculating where to sink his knife. “Let fate take care of her. Her death won’t sit well with your conscience,” Everett explains to his baby brother.
As Bobby is lifted up and away from me, Baba places both hands on his chest. “The gods do not like those who kill their parents. They can forgive those who kill their siblings, but those who harm the ones who gave them life they will curse for eternity. As Everett said, let the fates take care of her.”
Bobby chuckles then sneers at me. “Too bad my conscience has been eviscerated.”
I’m hauled out toward one of the waiting Crossleys. Everyone begins exiting the cottage. I peer around, realizing this will be the last time I see something that is mine . Something I made with my own name. My own plans.
Which have become my demise .
“Why did you keep her from me, Baba?” I hear Bobby ask my mother before I enter the vehicle.
She replies, “Because I needed you to become unhinged, dear. I’m so sorry.”
I climb into the back of the Crossley and watch my cottage fade into the distance.
George and Kenneth place my belongings in a private cabin upon the train. They stay posted outside the door. I’m slightly surprised they allowed me these amenities after I was revealed as a traitor.
I should be happy to have my life but instead am filled with remorse and anger.
This is not how my story was supposed to go.
I was to be a queen and now I am nothing.
Peering out the window, I see the rolling hills as spring peeks through the land.
I will miss seeing Lockham in the springtime—everyone putting their beautiful gardens on display, the spring festival taking over the streets.
I guess you never really realize what you have until it is gone.
At the time, I found those festivals tedious and meek, beneath me; now I know they were small joys I should have indulged in.
I wonder where I am even headed.
As I turn to sit on the blue velvet upholstered bench within my cabin, exhaustion racks my body. Glancing at the luggage rack, I find two rather large leather cases.
I wonder if they even packed the fine silk pajamas that I love.
“Will one of you come in here and get my luggage down?” I ask through the door.
They ignore me.
I yell it louder, adding a please .
They ignore me again.
I huff, exacerbated, and throw my hands on my hips. Fine. I will get the bloody luggage down myself.
I climb atop the adjacent bench, pulling down one of the pieces of luggage—before it falls atop me, landing on my torso.
It hits my abdomen just right, knocking the wind out of my body.
Luckily it is not as heavy as I anticipated, but was still too large to gain control of.
I push the luggage off my torso and sit up.
Opening the luggage, I find my letters from Sabini, some shoes and various toiletries.
I frown, since it’s not what I expected, but maybe the items I’m in search of are in the other case.
I stand atop the bench again and try to grab the luggage from a logical angle, but again fail, and this luggage is substantially heavier than the first. I allow it to crash to the floor of the cabin as I fall on my back beside it.
Lying in the fetal position for a few seconds, I attempt to regain my composure.
Once I open the luggage, I’m met with a sharp pain in my arm, my neck, my chest, my torso, my wrist.
I scream in agony.
Then, opening my eyes once more, I peer into the luggage to find it’s filled with angry black adders, which continue to strike me.
There have to be nearly twenty to thirty adders that were locked within the luggage. Dropping them from such a fall probably pissed them off even more than they were already.
Another strike.
Another hiss.
More pain .
I curl into a ball as I feel them slithering along my legs and atop my arms. Some continue to strike at my flesh.
The venom burns and my muscles feel like they are on fire.
My breathing becomes shallow, my vision blurry as a headache erupts within my skull.
I’m surrounded by pain.
I realize I’m about to die.
Kenneth and Jacob continue to ignore me from outside the cabin.
I spy a small note that fell out from the luggage stating, ‘ Love Bobby .’
This is not how my story was supposed to end.