"The Orphan"
Chapter 1: Compromise with Death
It was cold. Esther's seemingly lifeless body lay out on the frozen lake. Her scratches and and the blood in her mouth were now clotted from the freeze. Her hands were now stiff, and her dress felt crispy from the snow. It took all the strength she had in her small, child-like body to re-surface from the lake. "It's not fair.." Esther softly mumbled to herself as she gazed out at the pitch black sky. "All I ever wanted was to be loved, and to love in return. That selfish bitch had to ruin everything." She grimaced as she looked down at her tattered, black lingerie. She went through all the trouble just to make him happy. She cut it perfectly and for the first time, in a long time; she was able to open herself up and show him her woman side, but he denied her. She has never been that open since the day she left the Hillman's family.
~PAST~
The father was very similar to that of the Coleman's father. He dressed neatly, always thought there was something wrong with his wife, and at times it greatly depressed him. The only difference between the two was the fact Mr. Hillman seemed slightly more infatuated with little Esther. He played along with her seductive games, and at times, even felt comfortable enough to kiss her lips. A pedophile in his own way. Esther didn't care, she couldn't see anything but a real person who loved her. She would play out in the meadows with him, hiding behind the trees waiting for him to find her, and catch her. He never got along with his wife, she was also an alcoholic that had her own issues. One day she found out about him and Esther. She found them making out behind there little wooden shed, and told him, if she ever were to see that happen again she would file for divorce. He took therapy, got over Esther, and told her he could no longer play "grown up" games with her. Of course that did not go over well.
~PRESENT~
Her stomach was in knots; her head was pulsing as loud as her heart beat. Even as the strong urge to vomit rose in her stomach, she still had the strength to keep calm. "Now I smell like her . . I smell like fish, and cunt!" She growled to herself clenching her jaw.
Who the hell does she think she is. She tried to kill me? I will see to it personally that you DIE YOU STUPID WHORE!" Her outburst made her throat tingle. It was no longer a thought to herself, but an outburst of a personal promise. Quickly rolling over to her side she began to vomit, watching the blood trickle down the watery grave that could have been her fate. A scream escaped her chaffed lips as she slung her fist into the ice.
"Max,why did you have to betray me? I loved you as if you were my own little sister. . So precious; would never say anything against me. You too have also done me wrong, the day you mingled with that fucking little prick of a brother . .I hope he dies. I hope I see him dead and dance on his little grave." She could feel warmth returning to her face as the tears slowly trickled down her cheeks, mingling with her bloody bile. "I will see to it myself, that they should all die."
Putting her hands in front of her she slowly started to creep along the ice, she knew she wouldn't be able to stand unless she made it to the end of the lake to grab hold of something sturdy. Her knee caps dragged along the ice feeling cut up, and bruised. All she could think about was the times she spent with Max. Playing dolls, demonstrating how one makes love, swinging her around in her arms, with her head tightly close to her chest. She remembered feeling a sense of what being a sister meant; braiding her long, curly, blonde hair to make her look pretty. She remembered Max always smelt like fresh flowers and vanilla, and grew to love that smell as much as Max (in the beginning) grew to love her. Now she could barely open her mouth from her swollen jaw. Still. She needed this, she needed to prove to herself, she was strong enough to do this.
"Damn it!" she called out to herself, realizing there was nothing to grab hold of, except a few twigs. "I must try." Stretching her tiny fragile hands out in front of her, she was able to reel herself in. Screams could be heard throughout the forest as she tried pulling herself up through pure frustration. Her legs were shaky, she knew if she didn't find something to support her, she would have to roll back to the house. It was no longer considered a home, but a place of dwelling memories.
