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I'm saying she's a threat to our family's reputation!" Christabell shouted, her face red with anger. "She's a bastard, and you know how people will talk if she becomes successful. They will say she's better than Ivan, better than our own blood."
Jerry's eyes hardened. "She is my daughter and she has my blood. I decide for her, not you."
Silence fell over the room, the air thick with unspoken words. Christabell's face twisted with fury. "You are a disgrace of a husband!" she spat. "You never appreciate Ivan as your son since he is A-rank. You love your bastard daughter more than your own son!" Jerry gave Christabell a slap on her cheeks that echoed through the hall. She held her cheeks, her eyes watery, filled with tears and shock.
She couldn't utter any words, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Shut your mouth, woman!" Jerry said, his voice firm. With that, she stormed out of the hall, slamming the door behind her.
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[Continue]
My hard work paid off. I rose to the top of my class, earning accolades and respect from my peers and instructors alike. I placed in the top three students in the country, winning the prestigious National Guardian Championship. My name appeared on billboards, and the media praised my achievements. I was happy, hoping that this recognition would earn me a little respect from my family, or maybe worsen my problem.
When graduation day finally arrived, I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. I had made a name for myself, but what awaited me back at the Garrison family?
As the car approached the mansion, my heart pounded in my chest. Ivan was standing near the door, his eyes wide with anticipation.
"Rebecca!" he shouted, launching himself at me and hugging me deeply. "I missed you so much!"
"I missed you too, Ivan," I replied, holding him tightly. I handed him a small wrapped gift. "I brought you something."
He took the gift eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement. As we walked towards the mansion, I glanced up and saw Elizabeth standing at the top, staring down at me through a window. Our eyes met briefly before she turned away and disappeared from view.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "I hope things have changed," I whispered to myself, feeling a mixture of hope and apprehension.
---
That evening, the Garrison estate was filled with laughter and music. My father had organized a grand party to celebrate my return and my achievements. The grand hall was adorned with elegant decorations, and tables were laden with sumptuous food. The air was filled with the chatter of guests and the clinking of glasses. For the first time, I felt like I was part of the family.
"To Rebecca!" my father announced, raising his glass. "To her hard work, dedication, and success!"
"To Rebecca!" everyone echoed, and I felt a warm glow of happiness. Family members who had once shunned me now approached with smiles and congratulations. Even the maids, who had always followed Elizabeth's lead, seemed to treat me with newfound respect.
Ivan stayed close to my side throughout the evening, his eyes shining with pride. "You did it, Rebecca. You really did it," he said, his voice filled with admiration.
"Thanks, Ivan," I replied, ruffling his hair. "I couldn't have done it without you."
The party went on late into the night, and for once, I allowed myself to enjoy it. It felt like a dream, a world where I was finally accepted and celebrated. But as the guests started to leave and the music died down, reality began to creep back in.
---
I went up to my room, feeling a strange mix of joy and unease. Just as I was about to change out of my dress, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find Christabell standing there. I was surprised; she had never come to my room before.
"Christabell," I said cautiously. "Can I help you with something?"
She stepped into the room, her face devoid of the usual hostility. For a moment, I thought perhaps she had come to make peace. But as soon as the door closed behind her, her expression hardened.
"You think you can just waltz back in here and take over, don't you?" she sneered. "Just because you've had a little success."
I felt a surge of anger. "I've worked hard, Christabell. I've earned everything I've achieved."
She laughed coldly. "You're still the same worthless bastard you always were. You'll never be part of this family."
The words stung, but I tried to stay calm. "I'm trying to make things better, to prove myself. Why can't you see that?"
"Prove yourself?" she spat. "You'll never be anything but a disgrace. And now, you're trying to take what belongs to my son."
Before I could respond, Christabell slapped me hard across the face. The sting of it echoed through the room. I felt a burning rage rise within me.
"This is the last time you slap me," I said through gritted teeth. "I've warned you."
You dare threaten me. She raised her hand to slap me again, but I caught her wrist in mid-air. In a flash of fury, I slapped her back, the force of it sending her stumbling to the floor. She looked up at me with pure hatred.
"You will never be my daughter," she hissed. "And I will make sure you pay for this."
The threat ignited something dark inside me. "You have no idea what I've been through," I said, my voice trembling with anger. "I've had enough of your cruelty."
Christabell got to her feet, her eyes blazing. "You think you're strong now, don't you? You're nothing. You'll always be nothing."
The room seemed to grow colder as Christabell advanced toward me. "I made a mistake when I didn't kill you as a baby. You should have died with your whore of a mother," she said, her voice dripping with venom.
Her words cut deep, reopening old wounds. "Why do you hate me so much?" I asked, my voice breaking. "No matter how hard I try, you never appreciate me. I've had enough because now I don't care. If there were a hundred good apples, I would never choose a rotten one." My voice grew stronger, more confident.
"I will send you back to hell to reunite with your mother," Christabell snarled, her hands beginning to freeze and form into dagger-like shape.
I stepped back, preparing myself for her attack. She lunged at me, her icy hands aimed at my heart. I dodged, but she was relentless, her rage fueling her power. The room grew colder with each passing second.
In a moment of desperation, I summoned my flames. Green fire burst from my hands, thawing the frost and igniting the room. Christabell screamed as the flames engulfed her, but she was not done yet. Her body burned.
I walked through the flames, barefoot and unyielding. My room was now as hell, the fire consuming everything in its path. Christabell lay on the floor, her body charred but still alive. I knelt beside her, my heart pounding.
"Why couldn't you just accept me?" I whispered, tears streaming down my face. Hatred burned in my heart, a fire more intense than the flames around us.
Christabell's eyes met mine, and she managed to sneer. "Because you're a reminder of my husband's betrayal. You're a bastard.
Her words triggered something deep inside me. My hands light with flames, and I struck her face repeatedly. Her screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of cracking bones and burning flesh. I knew I should stop, that it was a sin to murder, but I couldn't. The more I hurt her, the more something dark within me stirred.
I felt a twisted satisfaction in watching her suffer. It was a feeling I couldn't explain, a sweet pleasure in inflicting pain. Her moans of agony were like music to my ears, and I couldn't stop myself. Her face was a mess of blood and burnt skin, but I kept going until her skull finally gave way, her brains spilling out.
The sight was horrifying, but I felt an eerie calm wash over me. I stood up, breathing heavily, and looked down at Christabell's lifeless body. A smile crept across my face. Finally, my heart was free.
They say the gods can't forgive your sins if you use your power for murder, especially against someone innocent. Society will call you a sinner, a pariah. But sometimes, proving the gods and society wrong is the only way to find peace.
"The true sin," I whispered to myself, " is allowing hatred to fester without confronting it.
Past secrets finally comes to an end