Chapter 5 Harper

I began to fidget with the hem of my pyjamas. How will she take it? I hope I don't make her yell at me. "Mom, I'm the one writing exams at school. Clara is free from exams. So why doesn't she stay back and help with the preparations? Once I'm done with my exams I'll come back home immediately. Please, mother."

"Harper!"

"Yes, mother."

She motioned to me to come closer. I didn't waste time doing that. You dare not disobey Mrs. Marshall.

My body shook in trepidation from fear of what she was going to do to me. Did I say anything wrong? Why am I the only child getting beaten, abused, and having to do a major chunk of the work all the time?

Her hands gripped my ears tightly that made me grimace as tears welled in my eyes threatening to fall.

"Who are you? Tell me! Who are you to make decisions in my home?"

"I'm sorry mom."

Her hands twisted my ears tightly and I felt the blood pounding in my head.

"Clara is a classic act from you. Why would she meddle in washing and cleaning shits? You wanna know why?" She grabbed my neck and pushed my face to hers as I stared right into her brown eyes that turned deadly.

I nod.

"When I talk to you, answer me!" She pinched my ears.

"Yes, mom," I replied with my crying voice. My chest was congested with sobs that were threatening to escape.

She licked my ears with an awkward smile.

That felt gross!

"Good girl. Clara isn't a pauper. She acts like a young lady fit for royalty. She's a gem. Perfection embedded into a walking goddess. But you're the complete opposite. Your odd dresses, ugly big glasses, stupid Miss goody two shoes attitude is sickening."

"I'll change mother if that'll make you happy." I pleaded. I've always yearned for a mother's love. For her love.

I knew she didn't like me but today listening to her tell me how different I am from my twin sister broke me harder. We're Siamese twins so we don't look alike and in personalities, we are different individuals.

Clara is crazier. She's fun-loving and adventurous. Mom barely scolds her when she's in the wrong but when it comes to me any little thing sets Mom off no matter how hard I try not to get her upset.

She pushed me to the floor and this time my head hit the coffee table and my pink vase shattered to the floor.

"Do you know what will make me happy?" She asked bitterly with venom.

"No." I held my head with my palm.

"Good. What will make me happy is for you to get lost. I'll prefer you get thrown into the gutters back to the trash you were..." She stopped herself and clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth.

"I was what mom?" I asked softly with confusion etched in my voice.

She ignores me. "Like I said, I'm giving you just two minutes to get down and join the maids. I don't want to come back from work and things aren't perfect the way I want. I'll have your head on the table this time around." She walked out leaving me hurt, bruised, and emotionally hurting, and shut the door with a loud thud that shook the building.

The broken pieces have stuck into my arms as blood came streaming down into my favourite pyjamas. It's ruined. The smell of blood filled the air.

Sobs racked out on my throat and I crawled away from the glass and plopped to the foot of my pink bed.

I wanted to wipe the tears from my cheek, I wanted to pinch at my nostril till I bleed. I wanted to cover my face in my palm and cry my heart out.

I placed a hand to my lips but removed them immediately from shock.

"Blood," I whispered there was blood on my hands.

My eyes scanned my body and it widened in shock as my pupil dilated.

I was a bloody mess with so much blood. It was all mine!

My arms were dripping with blood as pieces of the vase stuck into it, my pyjama top was sticky with dried-up blood. Blood from earlier when I hit my forehead.

My feet felt like jelly so I had no option but to crawl to the bathroom and get into the tub. There is a long-length mirror in my bathroom so I peeked at the mirror and my reflection scared me greatly.

Hot tears popped from my eyes. My eyes, cheeks, and lips had blood smeared on it. My arms had some broken pieces so I held my breath and picked the toilet paper to pick them out carefully.

"I need first aid." I soliloquized and with determination went back to the room with shaky legs.

Whenever I feel nervous or slightly scared my legs turn to soft rubber ready to give way. It's one of the reasons I avoid getting shouted at or making my mother upset so I don't get that way.

I walked to my closet and grabbed the first aid box and walked back slowly into the bathroom. I tried to avoid looking at the broken vase that was shattered on the floor. The sight of the broken vase made me want to fall on the floor and give way to the pain in my heart.

I failed myself. I cried before Mrs. Marshall even when I swore I wouldn't.

When I got into the bathroom I sat on the toilet seat and held my breath. It came as a relief that the broken pieces didn't get deep into my skin, it's just the surface so it would be easier to get it off my arm.

"Learn to endure pain. You're a strong girl Harper. Please be good."

That has been my driving force. I had to motivate myself. Things were going to be alright.

My mom loves me. She's just paranoid, maybe because of stress from work. It was my fault I shouldn't have said more than I should. I should have shut my mouth and I wouldn't have been in this condition.

~

I held my breath and slowly used the hand gloves with the tissue to pick out the glasses. I cleaned it with a ball of cotton wool dipped in methylated spirit to avoid getting it affected.

I put on the tap and used a white clean towel to clean off the blood on my arm. My fingers began to unbutton my pyjamas and I threw them into the trash bin.

I won't be wearing it ever again. It's not because I'm too lazy to wash but because I wanted to put all this craziness behind me as though it never happened.

The only way to live is to move ahead with the present and let go of the past.

I was naked in the tub. I picked up my coconut milk shower gel and poured it over my skin. I applied my hair shampoo to wash my hair off the scent of blood that serenaded me.

It stank!

When I was done with my bath. My hands picked up a towel that was neatly folded at the towel stand as I wrapped it over my body frame and picked up the first aid kit and walked out of the door.

The bath was refreshing as it was soothing to calm my nerves and help me relax.

I made a mental note of getting the Vase cleaned out of my room when I'm fully dressed. The sight is infuriating and depressing at the same time.

I picked a band-aid and used it to cover my injuries while I wore a pair of blue jeans and paired it with a black long sleeve shirt. I combed my hair and styled it into partings as it fell across the injured part of my forehead and hid what had happened.

It was the perfect cover up.

My pink flip-flop was on the floor so I slipped it on my foot and hurried down the stairs to carry out my duties.