Don't Let Go

by cierragp

iii. operation

Author's Note:

Gore. Skip if you'd like.

"So it was Soarin? The boy in your diary?"

I woke up, a throbbing, chilling pain in my abdomen.

"Speak!"

I stayed silent, staring at her.

"If it is him, however, you will not marry him. You will never." I looked down.

"What have you done?" I yelled.

"Hysterectomy." She giggled.

"How could you?" I lunged at her, but I was far too weak and she held me down easily.

"Remember, you are not a woman, and you never will be." She glared. I returned the look, but part of me crumbled upon knowing what exactly she did. "I will send you to the College of Scholars, but you will not stay in the dorms."

I shrugged. "Get off me."

For a second, she looked defeated, but the rage returned and I felt a hard slap across the face. "Damage me, explain to father." I smiled.

"He does not care." She smiled coldly, satisfied. "Otherwise, why would he wait until you were sixteen?"

"He does. I am all he has left. His sole benefactor."

She wilted. "No."

But her actions, as usual, spoke truth, moreso than her words.

"And I am glad you did that, mother." I say. "I wouldn't want to wake up from nightmares of abusing my own child as you did. I wouldn't want to be sent to the darkests regions of hell for unnecessary cruelty. I don't want to be another you." I smiled at the hint of hurt I saw in her eyes.

Recovery was a blur. Despite the years of being deprived food and nutrition, I was still surprisingly healthy. And tall too. The disguise worked partially because of my height. I towered over most.

It took more than my mother to break me, but all it took for Soarin was his engagement.

He was engaged to some socialite or some daughter of a wealthy family.

I was losing him and that scared me, not the incessant beatings that my mother offered or the comfort that was never there.

I took the blade of my razor, and I ran it against my wrist, once, twice, until the flesh turned out and the blood flowed. I leaned back and waited as i felt my vision blur.