The Scar

The Scar

Mila was brutally injured by a spirit at a young age. Her selfish mother cares for nothing but beauty and casts out her damaged daughter as soon as she can. Mila begins a lonely journey trying to learn about the outside world, especially spirits, and inform the world on them instead enforcing slaughter like is generally beleived.

published on December 10, 201312 reads 12 readers 2 not completed
the dinner table

the dinner table

I lightly trailed my fingers over the gnarled skin. "Dinner's ready everyone!" my mother's sweet voice drifted sweetly throughout the house. I looked into the mirror debating whether or not to try and hide my damage. I snarled at myself in mirror. Clasping my hair in one hand i pulled on a band. Once i let go the hair flopped out lazily but stayed up enough to show my entire face. I took off the jacket that covered my neck and arms. I again used a band to tie up the corner of my shirt that revealed more scar. finally shorts revealed the end of the scar that stopped about mid-thigh. i clamped down the stairs feeling somewhat infuriated for some reason.
Lumma stood staring at me then scoffed "you better change mom might just throw you out!" she eyed me with condescension.
"Do you want a matching one" i said pointing to above my eyebrow where the gruesome brown skin started. she cringed disgusted "i thought so." i growled through clenched jaws. i watched all the girls file out of their room, none of them paying attention to me. Actually I'm pretty sure half don't know I exist and the other half thinks i'm a slave. But today I stormed through them without a word.
"Hey!" Hilantia barked. "Don't ever touch me again, you freak!" I turned slowly than took a massive step towards her so i was right up in her face.             "Whatya gonna do about it?" i said my hot breath deflecting off her face. she shivered. I stepped back, that was the longest conversation with any of the girls in the house. ever. i sat down at the massive table at the head, where i had never sat before. the girls all entered whispering about me and giving me the evil eye. I picked up everything even the stuff i didn't like and piled it on my plate. without a word i scarfed down everything and cleaned my plate. I stood and was about to leave when suddenly that same smooth voice crashed on my ears.
"Mila. what do you think your doing?" i turned and smiled at my gorgeous mother.
"i was going to give Coclea a walk."
"you may not leave this house" her voice stayed smooth and even making it even more terrifying.
"Why not." i tried to keep my head level like her but i could feel my neck starting to tense for the screams.
"You have to clean up and help your sisters" my mother now stood. She never raised her voice, never acted improper so even standing was a bad sign. All eyes turned to me. I felt the pressure build but i refused to sit. the only emotion i had ever seen from my mother was her spastic tantrums of how i would've been her prettiest daughter until i got "mauled."
"Mother, i think it's someone else's turn to help"
"it is your job Mila. ONLY yours."
"no. i have since i returned!"
"Mila. do not argue with me especially in front of your sisters. I am tired please sit down." her voice wavered slightly when she said 'tired.'
"i have finished." i turned to leave when her honey voice stuck my feet to the floor.
"enough. sit down." now the anger was building in her.
"I will return shortly i just need some air." i said quietly knowing how hard and exhausting it would be to fight my mom at a time like this.
"If you leave now, don't come back!" my mother slammed her fists down with tears already in her eyes. "you know i hate to do this Mila but you have pushed me too far---"
"TOO FAR?!!?"i screamed "i do everything you have ever asked me! i just need some air."
"Get out!"
"fine!"
"you better not come back here. pack your stuff and if you care for any of us you will come back as you should be: beautiful and appreciative."
"You think i want this scar?!"
"Mila leave." she sat and pushed her hair behind her ears and smiled "i'm sorry but maybe this experience will teach you proper behaviors."
"PROP---" i took in a breath, "fine. but i'll be gone for a while you'll have to fill in my slave position."
"we'll make do. can't you see you have tortured mom to the edge? you are a horrible person." Hilantia said with scorn and glared at me.
"Hilantia. no." my mother said quietly.
"sorry mother." i glared at the massive table of gorgeous girls. i wondered how my mother was even able to give birth to 9 angelic girls. I ran up to the attic and gathered everything that had some importance to me. i shoved them all in a bag. i then walked over to my desk. i grabbed the seemingly infinite amount of papers and than the ink. Slowly i climbed down the ladder that led from my window to the green grass down below. my leather boots padded down the flimsy grass. i walked around to the stables i passed the 2 stallions with their shiny manes to the short and squat dark brown mare who  could work for hours.
"hey Coclea." i stroked her soft nose and her warm breath tingled down my arm. we're going to go for a bit of a ride. ok?" i now was choked up but i but her thin saddle on and i flung my leg over her. i clicked with my tongue and she lurched forward. i refused to look back upon my old house and soon the thick woods swallowed me into its dark core.
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Comments (2)

Sliversplashthecat
I like it you should add more
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on May 14
EverymanHABIT
Took me a second to understand, but I get it. Coclea is a horse. Mila's mother is a jerk. And this isn't a bad story!
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on March 30, 2014