After wiping her tears, Vivian tried to stand up, but her legs felt weak and unsteady. She staggered to her feet, gripping the nearby table for support. Her eyes shifted to her mother, lying motionless on the floor. The sight filled Vivian with dread and despair. Her mother's head was cracked open and bleeding, her face battered and bruised, her eyes swollen shut. Her once-strong body was now frail and limp, barely clinging to life.
Vivian knelt beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. "Mom, please, try to get up," she whispered, her voice trembling. But her mother was unresponsive, too exhausted and beaten to even acknowledge her daughter's plea. Her breathing was shallow and labored, and her each breath seemed like a struggle.
Vivian fought back tears as she tried to lift her mother, but she couldn't move her an inch. Her mother's body was dead weight, too heavy with the burden of pain and exhaustion. Defeated, Vivian laid her back down and rushed to fetch a pillow and blanket. She placed the pillow under her mother's head and covered her with the blanket, trying to offer some comfort in the cold, cruel room.
She then went to find the first aid kit, which was nothing more than a box of old, worn-out cloths and a bottle of alcohol. Vivian soaked a cloth in the alcohol and began to gently clean her mother's wounds. Every time the cloth touched her face, her mother would let out a soft, agonizing cry, a sound that tore at Vivian's heart. Tears streamed down her face as she worked, her hands trembling with each stroke.
After tending to her mother, Vivian turned her attention to the mess around her. The house was a wreck, shards of broken chinaware scattered across the floor and furniture overturned. She began cleaning up, picking up the pieces with her bare hands. Every now and then, a sharp piece would cut her skin, but she didn't flinch. The pain in her hands was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
As she picked up a jagged piece of china, she paused, staring at it for a long moment. The edge was sharp enough to draw blood with the slightest pressure. She pressed it lightly against her skin, just enough to feel the sting, imagining for a brief moment what it would be like to end it all. But then she shook her head, pushing the thought away. "Why should I die?" she whispered to herself. "They're the ones who deserve it."
She continued cleaning, her thoughts dark and turbulent. She finished her chores, barely noticing the blood that smeared her hands, and returned to her room. She collapsed on her bed, burying her face in her pillow. Her whole body shook with an emotion she couldn't even name—rage, sorrow, despair, all swirling together into something dark and overwhelming.
When she woke up, it was already dark. Her pillow was soaked with tears, and the house was eerily quiet. Vivian got up and peeked out of her room. She saw her mother in the kitchen, cooking dinner as if nothing had happened. Her father and brother were sitting at the table, laughing and chatting like it was just another evening.
Disgust welled up in Vivian's throat. How could they sit there, acting like everything was normal after what had happened? She turned to retreat back to her room, wanting nothing more than to disappear, when her father's voice called out to her.
"Vain... My sweetheart, where are you going?"
The words made her skin crawl. She forced herself to turn around, masking her revulsion. "To freshen up a little," she replied, her voice flat.
"Where?" he asked, his tone suddenly suspicious.
"B-bathroom," she stammered, hating herself for even responding.
He frowned, but said nothing more, letting her go. As she turned to leave, she heard him call out to her mother. "This is what you've taught her? She doesn't even know how to talk to her father. Did you see her eyes?"
Vivian froze, her heart pounding. She could hear everything from her room.
"I'm the one who brought her into this world, and look at how she repays me. This is the consequence of your protection," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. Vivian heard a sickening slap, followed by a soft cry of pain. "The next time I try to teach her a lesson, don't you dare stop me, or it will be you who regrets it."
Vivian clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "I didn't ask to be born," she whispered to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. "I would rather have been dead."
"VIVIAN! VIVIANNN!"
Her father's voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. "Go see where that bitch has gone," he barked at her brother.
Her brother appeared at her door, looking uncomfortable and afraid. "Vivian, Dad's calling you," he said quietly.
Vivian wiped her eyes and forced herself to follow him out of the room, her eyes red and swollen. But no one cared. No one ever cared.
She entered the room with her head down, avoiding her father's gaze. He looked her over, sneering at her tear-streaked face. "You've been crying again," he noted, his voice mocking. "Such a weakling."
Vivian didn't respond. She didn't trust herself to speak. She just stood there, waiting for the next order, the next insult, the next blow.
"Sit down," her father commanded. Vivian obeyed, taking a seat at the table, her hands trembling in her lap. She could feel her father's eyes on her, studying her like a predator sizing up its prey.
"Do you know why you're such a disappointment?" he asked, leaning in close. His breath stinking, making her stomach churn. "It's because you're weak, just like your mother. But don't worry. I'll make sure to toughen you up.what I am doing is all for your good"
Saying this, he hugged her
Vivian bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. She felt like she was suffocating, trapped in a nightmare she couldn't escape. All she could do was nod and pray for the night to end.
Her father leaned back, satisfied with her silence. "Good girl," he said with a smirk. "Now go eat."
Vivian tried to eat, but couldn't. She felt a lump in her throat... she got up and silently said, I am done, I need to do some school work... I will go to my room... and then her heart heavy with dread, she looked towards her father. He looked up at her, and with horrendous hazel eyes he looked at her... he hated her eyes and she hated his...and then he said after a pause... "GO... I dont want to see this door ever locked up again otherwise I will break open this door and you will see the consequences..."
Hearing this, Vivian rushed back to her room.. her heart weak and legs trembling...
She knew this wasn't the end. It was never the end. But she would endure it, as she always did. Because she had no other choice.