GENESIS
"Do you want revenge, princess?"
I stared up at him. My heart pounded in my chest. That word—revenge—I knew it well. I'd even asked Miss Melissa to explain it to me just last week. She had, in a quiet voice, eyes full of caution.
And now… he was asking me that.
But the real question was the one I needed to ask myself.
Do I want it?
Do I deserve it?
My eyes began to sting with tears. The answer was simple.
Yes. I did.
I deserved it.
I had suffered enough. And even after I escaped, they never stopped. They kept coming for me, not stopping. And I let them. Not because I wanted to, but because fear wrapped around me like chains.
But I forgot something.
I wasn't alone anymore.
I had my husband. He had never once hurt me. Not once. And I believed him—I still believe him.
I should've asked for help.
But now I didn't have to.
He had already offered it.
His hand caressed my cheek. "Every day, I watch you whimper and cry silently in your sleep. Something haunts you, princess," he said, his voice low and thick with emotion I couldn't name.
My nose twitched. I was sure it had gone red.
He was right.
The nightmares never stopped. Every single night.
Then he took my hand. His grip was warm and steady.
"Look at your fingers," he said softly. "Scars. Calluses. There are girls your age who don't have even one. But you… you carry too many."
I looked down at my hands and tried to yank them away. I hated them—ugly, blistered from years of punishment. Burned by searing-hot sticks when I made the smallest mistake.
But he held on tighter.
"No," he said gently. "Don't hide them.
Don't hide you."
I stared at our joined hands. Mine were trembling, scarred, and ashamed. His were large, firm, rough in their own way—but strong. Protective.
Tears slid down my cheeks again, quiet.
"I know you can't say it out loud," he whispered. "But you don't have to. I see it in your eyes, every single day. You don't sleep. You barely eat much even after months of being here. You flinch at every loud noise, every raised voice. You carry what they did to you like it was your fault."
I closed my eyes. My chest heaved, but no sound came out. Just silent sobs that ached through my whole body.
He reached up and brushed my tears away with his thumb. "You've been punished enough for things that were never yours to carry."
Then, his voice softened even more. "Let me help you take it all back.
Your power.
Your voice.
Your life."
I stared at him, my lips trembling.
I didn't have a voice… but I had thoughts. I had feelings. And inside me, pain was building like a storm with nowhere to go.
I needed a place to pour it all.
And where better… than into the people who caused it?
I nodded.
Slowly.
Then firmly.
And in my mind—where no one could silence me again—I screamed:
I want them to feel the fear I felt.
I want them to beg like I begged.
I want them to know what it's like to be powerless.
I want to scream in their faces and not be silent.
I want to erase their smiles like they erased mine.
I want to break the chains they wrapped around me.
I want to watch them lose everything.
I want them to see me… and tremble.
I want them to feel small.
I want to take my name back.
I want to walk free without looking over my shoulder.
I want to sleep without seeing their faces.
I want to stop waking up in sweat and fear.
I want to destroy what they built on my pain.
I want them to remember me, not as a victim—but as their reckoning.
I want to burn the memory of their laughter.
I want them to know I survived.
I want to hurt them like they hurt me… and worse.
I want to be the reason they never touch another girl again.
I want to be good…
But I want revenge more.
LATER
"Lily! Lily!" Daisy shouted as she burst into the house, flinging her lunch bag somewhere without even looking.
One of the guards following behind her quickly picked it up and headed toward the kitchen.
She ran and threw herself onto me just as I sat up on the couch.
A soft silent oomph escaped my lips. I caught her, pulling her onto my thighs as she clung to me, wide-eyed and grinning.
She looked around, scanning the room like she was searching for someone. "Where's Uncle Kier? He was carrying you when I left."
Then she paused, her eyes going even wider.
"Wait... does that mean you're okay now? You don't need to be carried anymore?"
When she said that, a warm wave of embarrassment rushed to my face. I shook my head quickly and started helping her into her uniform.
Uniform. That was another word I had learned. It's what they wear at school so people know they're students. I thought it was really cool. Of course.
Hers was a short, dark blue dress with a white collar and short sleeves. On the left side of her chest was a shiny little thing—she called it a badge. It had her school's name on it. I couldn't read all the words yet, but I knew it meant something. Something important.
She wore white socks pulled up to her knees and black shoes that looked a bit tight, but they gleamed. A tiny blue bow sat neatly on her head, holding back her curly hair.
She looked neat… clean… smart.
Not like the clothes I used to wear when I was little after…..
I brushed some crumbs off her dress and tried to button it up, but my fingers trembled. Just a little.
She didn't say anything. Didn't frown or complain.
She just kept talking, cheerful and carefree, like my shaking hands didn't matter.