When the Truth Leads Me to Patricide

Ms. Lewis was startled by the blood covering my skin and gushing out from my lower abdomen. Without another word, she quickly tended to my wounds, staunching the blood flow while drying her tears.

In the end, she was so heartbroken at the miserable sight of me that she dragged Dad by the ear to my bed. Her face was crimson with anger as she snapped, "Take a look at this, Seymour! This is your daughter—your own flesh and blood!

"This is the only child you have with Sophia. Are you going to torture her to death to spare the hill from desecration?"

She was rendered speechless when Dad didn't respond.

At last, she gathered me in her arms and said with grim determination, "Fine! If you won't have compassion for this child, then I will!

"Sophia saved my life when she was younger. In return, I'll save her daughter and repay the life debt I owe her!

"From now on, Beth will be my daughter. You can grow old and die alone for all I care, Seymour!"

Ms. Lewis carried me carefully to the door, consoling and reassuring me that she'd keep me by her side forever, even if I didn't marry. Just as we were about to reach her car, Dad suddenly bolted after us and said solemnly, "I'll take you to the hill behind our town. You'll see why!"

Ms. Lewis patted me comfortingly, then followed Dad to the hill behind our town.

Unexpectedly, she returned with a grave, stormy expression. Any trace of her kindness and compassion had disappeared. It was replaced by ferocity.

"You wretched little thing! I never should've saved you!" As she cursed at me, she stopped at the car and dragged me out of the seat. "How could an angel like Sophia give birth to a devil like you?"

As that wasn't enough, she gave me two hard kicks to make a point. "You are your mother's biggest blight! It's no wonder no man would marry you! It serves you right that your child has died in your womb too! You should stay mute forever!"

After that, Ms. Lewis turned on the ignition, put the car in drive, and ran over my wrist. I heard my wristbone snap under the wheel. My windpipe nearly burst with a cry of agony.

Dad grabbed one of my legs and hauled me back into the house, tossing me on the bed again.

My skin was festering. I couldn't move.

He grabbed a salve and began to apply it to my skin. I stared at his serious expression and wondered if his love wasn't as twisted as he was mad.

He knew that the results were the same no matter who I brought to the hill, yet he allowed me to bring one fiance after another home. When I failed to marry, he'd feel sorry for me, then toss me into a tank of boiling water.

After I'd failed to marry several times, I began to contemplate leaving this town and its odd rules, even if it meant I'd stay mute forever. However, every time I secretly got engaged and held a wedding out of town, Dad would always find out about it as if on cue.

The first time he discovered what I'd done, he nearly broke my legs.

The second time, he ripped my wedding dress to shreds and humiliated me in front of the audience.

He was finally appeased when I obediently brought my fiance home to go past the hurdle at the hill.

Dad still tended to my wounds and changed my dressings as he had the last few times. As the days went by, new skin began to grow.

However, I was quietly plotting ways to escape this town and from under Dad's gaze completely.

I finally decided to purchase a plane ticket to go abroad so I could further my studies.

Getting out of the town was a challenge in and of itself. I texted my best friend, Queenie Morris, and had her pick me up in her car.

However, I never expected Dad to sense that something was amiss with my behavior. He burned my suitcase and study materials. He even tossed my passport into the lake.

"You are not going anywhere from now on! I will find a husband for you, and I'll keep it up until you can speak!" he thundered.