She laid down on her grandma's lap and thought she slept. But suddenly, she
woke up at a picnic with her family and her cousin Rachel. She didn't know
what was happening. She asked her mother how many days it had been since
her return from the hospital. "Almost a week, sweety. Why?" Answered Felicity.
Violet couldn't believe her. Something was wrong and she didn't know what.
For years, she hid the problem to herself. She wept and wept behind her petty
smile. She got frustrated and traumatized because she couldn't recall going to
certain places and meeting other people. It took her two years to realize that
she had some illness in which she had different personalities inside her. It was
like a whole another world- but smaller. They lived in a house with different
rooms and sometimes could even control different body parts. She figured that
when she slept in the middle of the day when some other personality took her
place. It was like a switch that she could barely control.
They could talk to each other. When some alters fought, they would hit
themselves physically with the body part they controlled. She would have
bruises over her entire body. After even small arguments, she couldn't explain
to her family why there were scars and wounds all over her body.
For three years she tolerated the pain. But one day, a big fight happened. It was a dumb, silly reason. The anger of her alters was unbearable. She broke inside.
she locked herself into a room. No one to witness her torture. No one to ask
questions. That day when she came out of her room, her long locks that reached her hips,
were cut to the shoulders unevenly. Her finely tied corset, was torn into pieces.
Her self confidence was ripped apart and her emotions were all over the place.
Her mom was horrified. She couldn't bare more lies. She told her mother the
truth. Her illness. Her struggle; her torture. No more lies, just the truth.
Nothing hidden from her mother.
Her mother was in shock. She couldn't believe herself. Such a struggle of her
own daughter she couldn't see. Felicity went and told everything to her
church's Archbishop. She trusted him the most. "My daughter is possessed,
your grace." She cried out. "WHAT?" Violet exclaimed in disbelief, "There is no
need to hide, daughter. God is forgiving." Felicity continued, "Please your
graciousness, exorcise her." The archbishop seemed to believe her. Her
symptoms gave it away. "It is very late. Come again tomorrow morning, child. I
will consider it surely. It seems that the spirit does not have entire control over
your daughter. She is standing here normally. Do not say anything to anyone.
Felicity came back dragging Violet to her room. She shut Violet's room door
and went to her own. As she opened the door, Smith asked, "Where were you?
We have been looking for you." Felicity was already very angry. "I may go
wherever I please, Smith." She said in a violent tone. "You do not address your
husband by his first name. And that tone shall not be tolerated. Felicity snapped
this time, "All these years! Every day you undermine me and treat me like a
maid; and now you have the nerve to spit on my face? I neared your
deceitfulness for 7 years! 7 years! Can you imagine how I must have handled
you and your mistress? You broke me from the inside when you started to cheat
on me after three years of marriage. Why would you? I'm not even sorry, I can't
love you because you are-" she couldn't finish her sentence.
Her lips stopped uttering words when her heart was pierced by a bullet. Her
husband shot her. That rage in the eyes controlled that man's fingers.
The worst part is, he didn't realize his precious daughter had been there all
along. He couldn't bear the pain he felt when he realized that the gem which
decorated the happiness of his eyes saw the insensitive animal inside his soul.
That feeling stopped his heart. He died right that moment. Right in front of
her- his precious Violet.
That poor girl, she had to see both her parents dying a tragic death in front of
her eyes. She fainted from disbelief and heartache. How much can an eleven-
year-old handle after all?