Jessica Hawkins woke on her eleventh birthday trying her hardest to avoid moving so as not to irritate her latest injuries. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for any sign that it was time for her next beating. She sighed when she saw the position of the sun through the window and realized that she would be let out to cook breakfast in an hour. She tested the restraints holding her to the wall, sighed again, and went back to sleep. She woke again fifty-nine minutes later. All her mornings were like this. A minute later, her father burst into the room, his face a blotchy red color. Alarm shot through her as he went for the whips, but she didn't say a word. She knew by now that speaking only made it worse. What happened? What had she done now? He drew his arm back and the first lick landed across her breasts. He started shouting,

"I thought you understood by now that magic is a sin! Speak wench!"

"W-what do you mean? I haven't done anything, daddy, I swear!"

He shoved a piece of paper under her nose, screaming,

"Then explain this!"

"Daddy, I can't read it with it shaking."

He slapped her, causing her head to snap to the side from the force of it. While she was still reeling from the blow, he released her left hand from its restraint and shoved the paper into it. She read through it quickly, her eyes growing wide with disbelief. She shook her head,

"I-I don't know, daddy. I didn't mean to do magic! I promise! I tried to stop!"

The whip cracked again, this time across her stomach. The next over her womb, then between her legs. She knew the pattern. She just had to wait it out. She didn't make a sound, waiting for it to end. An hour later, he let her down and ordered her to go take a shower. She hurried to do as she was told. Twenty minutes later, she was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Her mother entered the room and pulled the back of her shirt up. She poured salt on the open wounds and Jessica fought a wince. Tracy stroked her daughter's hair as she fought against the pain,

"It's for your soul, Jessica. Witchcraft is work of the devil. We're doing this so that you can get into heaven with us when the time comes. We want you with us in paradise."

If this is what it takes to get into heaven, I'd rather go to Hell. Jessica thought angrily, but she held her tongue. Instead, she asked,

"Momma, what are we going to do about the school?"

"Your father and I have decided that you'll go. You will stay for Christmas and any other holidays the school might have. In the summer, you will receive extra beatings. But you will tell no one." She stressed. Jessica nodded quickly.

"Of course not, Momma. I won't say anything to anyone. I promise."

She couldn't see her mother smiling, but she could hear it in her voice,

"Good girl, Jessica. Now finish breakfast, then go get ready to leave. The letter said someone will be waiting for you in London to take you shopping. Be on your best behavior, child. You know the consequences if you don't."

"Yes, Momma." She answered quickly. Her mother left the kitchen and Jessica finished cooking. She set the table and called for everyone to come eat, then ran to her room to change clothes.