• Ⓛⓘⓛⓛⓘⓣⓗ Ⓑⓔⓝⓝ ∫ ▹ Lillith Benn ○ - ↖↘ PART ONE ::

    I step out of my warm bath, searching for a warm, clean dressing gown. Though I only find a ratty, old rag, in shape of something like a robe. I feel the last string of happiness from the bath die away. I remember a long time ago, when I was still little, I used to have baths, clean clothes, and even lollies. But those days went away when my mother past away.
    When I sleep, I dream about her, even though I don’t remember, I imagine her long brown hair swaying as she walks. Her rosy cheeks brightening up my day, and her gentle smile, taking away all my worries.
    I think about the times we had, and could of had if she didn’t pass away of pneumonia.
    Father doesn’t talk much either now.
    All he does is get drunk and a few times afterwards, he hurts me.
    I skim my fingers over the red and purple swell on my face, having being reminded of last night, when he slapped me.
    It’s hard being sixteen, and not having a mother, you have to learn to do different things by yourself, apart from when the maids help.

    Fathers home, from another night of the pub I imagine. I hear him call my name, ‘Lillith, come down here, there is something in the mail for you.’
    Putting on my robe and a pair of small slippers, I slowly make my way to the grand foyer.
    Coming down the stairs quietly, I hear him shout again, ‘Lillith, where the bloody hell are you?’
    Trembling with fear, I think of what he could possibly do to me if it was a trap. I couldn’t stand another black or swollen eye, a mark on my face, or a stream of blood pouring out of my arm.
    Pulling out my handkerchief, I blow with my crooked nose, revealing a small streak of blood.

    Once I’m down stairs, with father in sight, I notice something different about him. For the first time in many nights, he’s actually not drunk. Though I also noticed, that in his hand was a little box, shimmering when the light hit it.
    Quickening my pace towards him, I hear him say in a voice I’ve never heard before, ‘This was your mothers, I’d like you too have it.’ It felt like all the grief and sadness in the world was pouring out of those nine single words. Gently reaching for the box, I feel the soft lacy ribbon, which is tied in a bow at the top. As I open the box, all I see is a little bracelet, but as I look closer, I see tiny diamonds, encrusted in the silver. The diamonds shined in the light, which was filtering through the huge stain glassed windows above my head.

    [c] I lemonpie I