_Chapter 1.
I was alone, standing in the middle of our ranch house with a candle in hand. Father was still gone; he hadn't returned since yesterday morning's milk delivery. He could have very well fallen asleep somewhere, but I'd like to think he'd have more sense than that. After all, he knows Uncle isn't good to me, so I can't imagine Father abandoning me for sleep. There must be something wrong.
Just as I took a step across the cold wooden floors, Uncle Ingo came in with a bang. I jumped back, the candle's flame whisking out, and my eyes darted around in the dark. Ingo's raspy voice sent chills down my spine as his boots thundered across the room, shaking the house.
He backed me into the wall, towering and looking down on me, "Malon." The whites of his eyes glowed in the dimness and his mustache covered most of the frown I'm sure grew deeper at the sight of me.
"Yes, sir?" I crossed my arms over my chest and rubbed my shoulders. I've long since learned the lesson of responding to him casually.
His hands shook as I spoke, as if my voice angered him. "Where's that no good father of yours?"
"He's out," is all I could say because I didn't know the exact answer.
A smile crept on Ingo's face, slow and deliberating. "Is that so?"
Anticipating his next move, I ducked and darted under the arm he swung at me. My bare feet pounded against the floorboards as I shot for the open door. My breath hitched as I made it through the opening. For the first time I had successfully avoid his wrath. I smiled. But cruel fate cut the strings of my hope when a hand reached out and clutched onto my hair. I screamed as Ingo's fingers knotted themselves deep in my scalp, and he pulled me back into the doorframe.
"Troublesome brat," he spat on my cheek. It drizzled into the corner of my mouth, and I gagged, wiping it away before it got inside. "It's no wonder you never learned any discipline with the kind of parents you got— what with your father's lazy ass paired with your mother spoiling you." The smile returned to his face. "Lucky you got me, huh?"
I began to speak, but Ingo had slammed the door by time I parted my lips, leaving my hair caught between the door and its frame. Stuck, I was bent uncomfortably backward to hold my position and keep from ripping my hair out. After only minutes both my back and legs were shaking with exertion; although as I stood there I realized that the trembling came from within my heart. Hot anger and loneliness poured out of me. I did not like Uncle Ingo speaking as if my parents were less than him when they were much greater people than he could ever hope to be. That aside he had no right to treat me this way after all the kindness I've generously given to him undeservingly.
To calm myself, I shifted my stance, winching, and tried singing the song Mother composed for Epona. Usually it made me feel better and closer to her, but the notes were broken by my sobs. Tears dripped from my chin. The morning sun burned my face. And the anger, my drive to fight, dispersed.
Maybe an hour or so later, Ingo finally peeled open the door. Dazed, I fell to my knees in relief and gently massaged my scalp. He didn't say a word to me as he marched into the barn, thank God. I scrambled back into the house, locked the door, and went to my room. I tenderly stroked my hair with a brush, flinching at the sensitivity I found. Once it was kempt I huddled under my blankets. Ingo would surely punish me for locking him out, but I needed a comfortable moment to weep. I could live here anymore than I could stay. I couldn't continue on here in fear, yet I couldn't leave knowing the nature in which I know my uncle would treat the animals.
The pillow in my hands was soaked with tears, filled with the cries of a young girl. I suddenly wanted to hurt Ingo. Hurt him so terribly he'd be coughing blood and crawling and begging for me to spare him. He's done so much to me and so little for. I didn't see why Father kept him around. Mother wouldn't have stood it had she lived after childbirth.
Dragging myself away from bed, I went downstairs to have a glass of the ranch's famous milk. Tomorrow, I decided, I'd go searching for Father and have him get rid of Ingo. If Father refused, I'll find my own way to rid of dear old Uncle.
A/n:
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