Chapter 2 CHA

THREE WEEKS AGO-

Tears streamed down my cheek, burning and relentless, as Uncle Luke's hold increased, holding me to the icy bedroom wall. His fist, hard and unforgiving, fists itself in my hair, yanking on my head until my neck screamed in protest. A cracking sensation, and burning pain, as his knuckles connected with my jaw, splitting my lip, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. My eyes blinded, a whirlwind of agony, as he placed his other hand over my other eye, bruising the soft flesh, forcing until stars explode behind closed eyelids.

I fell to the floor, a shattered rag doll, every gasp a torn sob. "Please, Uncle! Stop this, stop hurting me!" The words tore from my throat, a desperate, futile cry.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE CONSIDERED THAT BEFORE YOU MURDERED HER!" He bellowed, the voice a raw yell, pregnant with venom that sent shivers down my spine.

"Oh, Uncle! You know it was accidental! I did not mean for them to have died!" I began, my voice barely above a whisper, my frame trembling unmercifully. But the word "her" echoed, a discordant note in my terror. Her? My scream dried on my lips, to be substituted by a spasm of chilling fear. We stared at each other with cold concern, the atmosphere thick with a choking silence.

His sickly-hating eyes twisted into a ghastly leer. Trembling with naked terror, a premonition of something worse than the threat of bodily pain, something to sully every recollection, I was frozen.

"Oh Aurora, you're no niece of mine! You never were!" He spat, his voice sinking to a low and ugly growl, slipping into my ears like a snake. "Your mother informed me your real father passed away when she was carrying you. I loved your mother so much I was happy to be your Uncle. She was my Aurora, before she was ever yours. We had an existence, a clandestine one, as she played house with your 'father.'" The words were a toxic bitter pill, a betrayal from the beyond, and my stomach knotted up with a new, nauseating type of sickness. The vision of my mother, the woman I loved, embracing him, this monster standing before me, was a brutal, gut-wrenching blow. This was not only about the loss of my parents; it was a more vile, evil pain, a poisoned bitterness that my own mother had kept such a hideous secret, sleeping with the man standing over me, a predator.

"No! That's not true! Mum would never have kept something like that from me!" I wept, the pain of betrayal a fresh wound layered over a thousand others, my body convulsing with sobs.

"Your mother did not want you to find out the truth until you were eighteen. She wanted you to have an ordinary life. She said to me that once you are eighteen years old you will find out your true identity. I did not realize she actually meant; I guess she was planning to tell you about your biological father then. You will never find out who he was now!" He cackled maniacally, the sound which grated on my raw nerves, as his foot connected with my ribs, a sickening crunch echoing in the small room. A jagged, blinding pain exploded forth, stealing my breath, and I doubled up, clutching at my side, a soundless shriek trapped within me.

And the world swayed. His shadow covered me, a cold, suffocating darkness. Air was heavy with a fear that stole my breath, my thinking, my fight. All urges cried out, but my body refused, a puppet whose strings were cut. The pain in my side, the thudding in my jaw, faded to a dull buzz at the far end of my mind as a new, hollow violation moved in. His hand was violation, a searing brand that took the last shred of childhood and left me with a wintry, shattering emptiness. I closed my eyes, wishing I could just disappear, be anywhere except here, as the world exploded around me into a blur of pain, fear, and an anguish of being utterly, irretrievably shattered.

The door slammed shut behind him, its click echoing like a gunshot through the shockingly still, explosive silence. He was gone, and I was left standing in the wreckage of my own bedroom, a void of what I had been moments prior to that.

I stayed there for what was an eternity, the cold hard ground a bitter comfort against my raped flesh. Each labored breath was a struggle, each movement a fresh wave of agony. My trembling right hand strayed under my clothing, the contours of my broken ribs traced on my flesh, but the body's pain was swallowed up by the far greater, far more searing grief of the soul. Tears, once a flood but now a slow, silent trickle, blotted my vision until darkness took over and brought me into a troubled, haunted sleep.

The next morning, the world was strange. I lurched like a specter, each muscle wailing in pain as I struggled to pull on my work attire. The house was vacant, Luke most likely passed out in some boozy stupor. I pulled my hoodie up over my head, a poor shield from the world, and slid out the front door, shuffling toward work, burdened by a lost innocence that could never be restored.

I was going to school until I was caught with bruises on my arms and my teachers called Uncle Luke in to the principal's office for interrogation. I begged my teachers not to call Uncle Luke. My teachers did not believe me when I told them that I am clumsy and fell down the stairs. I have not been allowed to return to school since then; I was forced to become a waitress and kitchenhand at a diner about a thirty-minute walk from home.

On my way to the job, a black Mercedes tracks me uncomfortably. I have noticed this same vehicle following me for many months. The driver is always looking at me. I have a tendency to drive off the track in the direction away from the road when it approaches, following the longer path to work, through the woods. I enjoy my job and my coworkers. My boss Jasper is really sweet; he always senses that something is amiss but he never requires me to talk about it. His willingness to help is always there, in an unspoken, supportive and documented manner.

I go straight to the kitchen and wash my hands in readiness to prepare the salads and the rest of the food. Extremely hot, I make a beeline towards where I had left my bag on a stool, spilling my hoodie onto it and opening my jumper to cool me down. It is twenty minutes since Jasper shows up to start preparing the first orders of food for the day. A growl is released low; he sounds otherworldly like a wild animal. I look up to find Jasper who's rather upset.

You know you can call on me for help, Aurora, don't you? You don't have to go back home if you don't feel safe. I've got some friends in a nearby town who could provide for you," he says.

"Thanks, I'm fine. I slipped down the stairs. I'll be okay," I say, giving him a small smile.

"You said the same thing last time Aurora..." he says.

"What can I say? My house is old; the stairs are rotting," I tell him, sobbing, and beating my fists on the prep table. Jasper moves over to me, wraps me in his chest and has his arms around me as I weep.

"Let me help you, Aurora," he says. I move back and shake my head.

"You don't understand, I can't accept your help."

"Why not?" he asks.

"Uncle Luke won't let me off easy. He wishes I were dead and would kill anybody who attempts to rescue me. And even so, I deserve it," I explain to him, my tears wiping from my cheeks.

"No person deserves to be beaten and abused," he replies.

I'm the one who murdered my parents. It's my fault that they're dead. And this is what I deserve for a punishment. If it's disturbing you to have a couple of bruises, perhaps I should work elsewhere," I yell and move back to the prep table where I take the knife and start slicing the lettuce.

"I apologize, I didn't want to make you angry. I simply don't like seeing humans treating our people like that; even an outlaw such as yourself," he scowls.

I halt, frowning, and study him.

"Human beings? A villain? I do not know what planet you are from or what kind of human you think me to be, but we are all simply human," I tell him, and continue chopping up some carrots on a blue chopping board.

Jasper just stands there saying nothing; I look at him and ask him what his issue is this time. He just stands there looking very white with his mouth hanging open, stiffly immobile.

"Jasper? Are you okay? What's wrong? Are you having a heart attack?" I ask, striding over to him in concern.

He blinks and attempts to place his hand on my shoulder, before I step back and away from him. I know Jasper would never hurt me; I just don't want people to touch me. He frowns.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," he says.

"I know you won't hurt me; I'm just not used to the niceness," I confess. Jasper smiles wistfully.

"Do you not know what you are?" He asks, poised on the edge of telling me something I think I already should know.

"What I am? I don't understand what you're getting at. I am what we all are. Human," I shoot back, staring at him in confusion.

"Can't smell the difference, can you?" He says to me. I laugh.

"The only thing I can smell in this place is food burning in the frying pan," I shoot back, laughing.

"S**t!" He dashes to the stove to turn it off and removes the smoke-filled frying pan.

We are silent in the kitchen for a while after that, and focus on getting orders ready and cooking them.

"For what it's worth, Aurora, whatever became of your parents, I'm sure they wouldn't wish for you to blame yourself for killing them. I'm sure they'd not wish your Uncle Luke to be bullying you all these years because of it too."

"My uncle," I correct him.

"Your uncle? I thought–" he says, but I stop him.

Yes, I didn't find out until last night that he was my mother's secret partner. My real father died when my mother was pregnant with me," I explain.

"I'm sorry." He sounds sad.

"I was sorry too at first, but I don't know anymore. Maybe it would be better for me that he is not my real father," I say. Jasper smiles and nods.

"Do you think that you could stay late tonight? I have some guests from the town next door for a very important meeting. It would be great if I could actually be in attendance at the meeting for a change, instead of having to feed them," he says to her.

"I'll have to phone Uncle Luke, and ask, but if it's extra beer money for him, I am certain that he will oblige."

My Uncle Luke says I can do the extra few hours. All of what I earn at work always gets deposited into his account anyway. I never get to see any of it, but I'd rather be at work if it means that I won't be here with him.

"It's okay. He says that I can do the few extra hours," I report to him. He winks at me and smiles.

"Good," he breathes in relief.

A few hours later I'm serving the food to the customers who have come to the diner to have their meeting.

"Do I need to know what about this meeting?" I ask Jasper.

"We're having some, uh, problems in Moonlit Pack," he says.

"Oh, in Moonlit Pack? I've never had the chance to visit there before; I've heard that there are just lots of rude individuals who act like they're wild animals all the time." Jasper laughs.

"It's not that terrible, and I actually do live there. Am I hostile? Do I run around like a crazy animal?" He inquires.

"Fair point; you are not exactly hostile. And, no, you do not run around like a crazy animal. Not that I am aware of anyway," I chuckle. Jasper laughs.

"If only you knew, Aurora," he laughs.