Peace Maker - Chapter 192

TRIGGER WARNING

The festive feeling was long gone as they began to enter the house again. One by one, they stepped into the mansion, the cold feeling in the air hitting Annabeth in the face. It was so shocking, so chilling, so tense. So… foreign.

So real.

She bowed at her brother and sisters and began to walk down to the hall to her room, her heels clicking rhythmically as she heard her sibling’s steps behind her.

‘This tense atmosphere…’ she thought to herself as she walked. ‘I almost forgot…’

This was the reason why she never liked to leave the house. Not the fact that she had to get ready, or the event itself, or even socializing. Those were all fine for her, they were nice, warm, fun. That was the issue. She would become so indulged in those fake scenarios, so comforted by the fake smiles she wore, and so involved in conversations she allowed herself to speak in.

She would be so involved in that world, in that little aspect of her life, that she forgot the hell she lived in for the majority of her time alive. She would forget the cold atmosphere, would forget the scowls, and forget the silent harmful words. Those bright days outside the cages she called home…

They blinded her.

She hated coming back home, she hated coming back to earth.

Quietly, her hands wrapped around the cold surface of her doorknob and she turned her door open, taking a look inside her room.

The white walls, the large bed, the paintings on the wall, and the perfume scent. She hated it. She missed the gold and white walls of the palace, the bright smiles that decorated the room, and the smell of food she could stuff herself with.

She stepped into her room and shut the door behind her, silence washing over her like a wave. Pulling her under. Drowning her.

‘I’d rather have the fruitcake than live in this…’ she thought to herself as she walked over to her wardrobe and began to strip from her dress.

She looked down at the beautiful gown, cocking her head to the side as she looked at the chocolate stain that laid on the collar of the dress. She stared at it, remembering when she had gotten it, remembering who was with her when she got the stain.

‘The stain…’ she thought to herself as she eyed the dress.

It looked misplaced. Like a dot of white in a pool of black or a dot of white in a void of white. It wasn’t meant to be there. It wasn’t meant to dirty such a pretty dress, it wasn’t meant to disrupt its beauty. Everything about it was wrong…

‘I’ll have to wash it later,’ she thought to herself as she picked up the dress and threw it in the dirty bin.

…It had to be erased. Restored back to its purest form. Just like her mood, just like her mind.

It was funny how she could look back at the memories she had earlier and ate the ones she had to live in every day. It was funny how she despised a world that would be hers forever simply because she had visited one that was brighter and more exhilarating because in the end, none of that mattered.

That dot of white in the pool of black will be washed out eventually with just another stroke of black and that dot of black would be washed out with one stroke of white. Just like all those bright memories she tried to tie down of tonight, will eventually become loose and blend into her black canvas. Just like how she would slowly adjust to the place she called hell.

To the hell in her home.

She slipped on a little white garment and flopped down on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. It looked the same as it had when she had left. She closed her eyes, the image of the ceiling still remaining in her head. It would always look the same.

Slowly, she tried to drift off to sleep, numbing her cheeks, calming down the nerves that had been used to smile as they would remain stoic until she was forced to smile again. She was trying to rest.

But she couldn’t.

In her state of silence, she heard the steps. Soft and quick, like they were trying to be quiet. Like they were trying to be discreet as they passed her door. Her eyes flew open and she turned to the door.

She knew what laid past her door, she knew where those steps were headed. And if she knew where those steps were headed, she knew who it was.

Swiftly, she stood up from her bed and grabbed the cloak that hung on a coat hanger by her door, and pulled open her door to the hallway, her eyes darting to the direction in which the feet had walked. Slowly, she closed the door behind her and began walking down the hallway.

On her face was a slight frown. Anger.

*

‘I wonder what happened when they were gone…’ Alice thought as she walked to the clothing line behind the mansion, a heavy bucket of clothes weighing down in her hand. ‘Did they dance?’

She twirled around with a slight smile on her face. “Dadada…hmmm~ dadata BOOM! dada..” she sang quietly, trying to imitate the melody of her favorite ball dance song. She paused abruptly, her eyes widening.

“There would be lots of food there, wouldn’t there?!” she exclaimed in excitement, “cakes, wine, chicken, and even lobster!”

She chuckled at her own words and continued to walk towards the clothing line, her steps heavy from exhaustion but a smile still remaining on her face. She placed down the heavy bucket in her hand and picked up one of the clothes in the bucket, throwing it over the clothing line.

The night was dark and quiet, the distant chattering of people in the city almost like background noise.

That silence, that slight breeze that made the cloth sway in the air. It scared her. It was too quiet… too peaceful. It sent shivers down her spine, triggering thoughts she would rather forget. She trembled but continued to hum to distract her mind.

Her leg wavered slightly and she hunched over, her hand covering her baby’s bump protectively. Seconds later a wave of fatigue ran over her and she staggered, her humming being cut short immediately.

‘It hurts…’ she thought to herself as she clutched her stomach.

It was a contraction. Long and painful, like sharp needles and stretched down her legs and her lower body part. It hurt.

“Ah…” she gasped in pain, staggering over the wall behind the clothing line and leaning against it.  “ARGH!!”

“Woah there…” said a voice in the shadows, “I didn’t even touch you…” it muttered, a little chuckle leaving its lips. “Yet…”

Alice flinched, her head looking up into the darkness, her blurry vision failing to make out the figure. She let out another howl in pain as she clutched her stomach, her hand trembling.

“What is this? A way to scare me off or something?” the voice said stepping closer to Alice. “That definitely won’t work.”

Her lips quivered as she tried to form words. “No…no… please… Stop…” Alice muttered, her voice weakling calling out to the voice as her contraction deepened, her body getting weaker. “P..lease…” Fear ran over her as tears started to fall from her eyes.

She couldn’t recognize the voice. It was deep, it rang in her head as pain ran through her. It was petrifying.

“Why?” the voice asked coming closer to her, “don’t act innocent. Everyone in this mansion knows who you are.” The voice grabbed Alice by the arm roughly, pulling her closer to them as they ran their hand over her face. “The slut of the house, the young master’s sex slave. That’s who you are right? That…” the vice wavered looking down at her body, “That bump…. Is it not his child? His seed that has been growing in you, right?”

Alice trembled, as the grip on her arm grew tighter. “Please… Please let me g..o… It hurts… I-… it hurts…”

“Is that what you say when he does you?” the voice smirked, pushing Alice into the wall, his hand pinning her hands to her back and they pressed their body against her.

Alice flinched, her eyes widening in fear. ‘No…’ she thought to herself as the tears continued to fall from her eyes, the pain in her belly seeming to continue with no stop. ‘Nononono…’

She felt it. It was some hard, pressing against her roughly. Her face was pressed against the cold wall and the voice’s hand restricted her.

“I was wondering what was so good about a scrap… a piece of trash on the street..” the voice smirked, “what was so good about it that he forced himself on it, making it pregnant twice… but now I see why… he must have liked the way you cried.”

Alice whimpered, trying to push him off but another contraction hit her.. She cried.