Chapter 12: Scars of the Past
On the path home, the father and daughter strolled around town as it was done. Agatha held her father's hand, noticing how other kids did the same when their parents would pick them up from school. She looked around the bazaars they past, hesitant to ask her father if she would like something.
Agatha looked at her father, facing upwards toward his face, curious of what he was thinking. He merely returned the gesture, smiling back at his young without the least bit of care in the world.
"I think it's best I take Emilia's advice here and test this man.", she thought to herself, still uncertain of him despite what happened in school between Emilia and him.
Agatha spoke up the word, "Father?", immediately drawing his attention towards her.
Aiden knelt till their eyes met, "Yes, Agatha?". Something about his voice tickled Agatha's ears long after they escaped his lips. She felt less anxious the more she heard it.
"I was wondering if we can grab a bite to eat before heading home?", the little girl asked, feeling a chill underneath hear dress as the goosebumps made their way through her body.
"Your mother has a feast tonight because of our guest. Are you sure you don't want to go home and enjoy it. She even made your favorite from what I was able to tell." Aiden responded, perplexed by this sudden request but trying his best to ask in a way he didn't seem unfriendly towards her.
"Yeah, but…", Agatha said, catching herself short of what to say.
"You'd rather spend time with me for once?", Aiden wondered, knowing exactly what she was going to say.
The girl calmed herself internally in relief before changing her tone to a more rational one, "It's only fair. I see you few times a year. Plus, I have lots to ask you."
"Leave it up to you to get straight to the point. You really are my daughter, aren't you.", he said, giving a rather serious face before letting out a sigh, "Sure, fine. Why not? Where would you like to eat?"
Agatha laughed at the sudden shift in expression, finding it almost comical. This caused Aiden to remain speechless. She calmed down and pointed to a specific building, "There".
He gave the building a good look. It appeared to be a diner which doubled as a restaurant. He didn't see the harm of such location, "Alright, let's go."
Agatha felt surprised as upon saying those words, Aiden picked her up. He looked at his seven-year-old, amused by her bewildered expression. She calmed herself soon afterwards, thinking, "Just me and him. That's all I wanted. Emilia, you were right."
The two went side, finding themselves a table near the window. Aiden placed Agatha on the chair. He removed her overtop revealing a circular neckline with a white shirt-esque design underneath and on it, a ribbon, and put it to the side. He then sat down and removed his poncho, revealing a black suit underneath.
Within moments, the waiter came by, wearing a casual uniform and spoke up, "May I get you anything, sir?"
"Yes, I", Aiden tried to respond, raising his finger up indicating that it was his turn to speak only for him to be cut off.
The waiter turned to face Agatha, disregarding Aiden, "Hey, you're Agatha, right?". It was immediately apparent to him that he recognized Martha's daughter.
"Yessir", Agatha said nervously, placing her arms between her legs indicating such, "Agatha Fletcher."
"How are you?", he asked, his tone laced with ecstasy, "I never thought I would get to meet you."
"I'm great sir, and yourself?", Agatha asked and answered, trying her hardest to subdue whatever negative feelings she may have been feeling at putting on her friendly façade.
"I'm great, I was wondering if you…", he continued, smitten at the sight of seeing her. He couldn't help his excitement as he placed his hand on her shoulder.
Aiden let out a pretentious cough to draw the man's attention. It was loud enough to where everyone could hear it. He was tapping his fingers on the table in a rather annoyed manner.
"Oh, I'm dearly sorry, Sir. And you are?", he asked nervously, sweating pouring down his forehead as he looked Aiden dead in the eye.
"I'm her father.", Aiden said, seemingly offended by that question. He cracked his fingers before continuing, "Listen pissant, just do your job and take my order."
"I'm really sorry sir, it's just that its not everyday someone like her gets to meet-.", he said sheepishly, hiding his scared expression behind his clipboard.
"Order item number seven with a side of ramen noodles and soup." Aiden said, his gaze stabbing the man at the core, "Get about your job or you'll be fired. I'm the customer, I'm the boss. Now begone. Don't make me repeat myself."
"Right away sir", the man said, jetting off across the room and going behind the service desk.
"Moron", he said, looking at Agatha as she watched the guy retreat in fear. He turned his direction briefly at the window before returning it to Agatha and continuing, "The lack of etiquette when a father tries to spend time with his daughter. Goodness."
Agatha chuckled in response to this, covering her mouth with her hand and thinking, "He's just like me."
"What's the matter, dear?", asked Aiden, changing his tone to that of confusion. He scratched his head nervously.
"I didn't know you were like that, father.", the girl answered, lowering her laughter as she calmed down. She wiped a tissue on her eyes to prevent tears from falling, "I've always wanted to tell people off just like you just did but I can't do it. I'm too nice sometimes."
Aiden laughed somewhat himself, joining her to make the situation feel less awkward, "Well, you better learn how to then. Because as your old man, you don't want to let people just walk all over you like that; the last thing anyone needs is a stroke to their ego or anything."
"But how do you tell them off like that." Agatha wondered, having completely stopped laughing. "How do you it so naturally?"
Bewildered by the question, he answered, "Just accept the compliment without showing signs of it. Tell them off when it becomes apparent you don't want to deal with it. If they don't abide, just dismiss them and let them know that they are bothering you. Simple as that."
"My problem is that I get scared of what people would think about mother if they got a bad impression from me.", Agatha remarked, looking down at the table before looking directly into his eyes.
"That's actually considerate." Aiden responded, extending his arm and reaching out for her hand. Such an action made Agatha turn completely red all over, "It really is. Still, be kind as much as should be. Not as much as possible. Don't get me wrong, I obviously don't recommend being a jerk to people. You just got to know your limits."
"Understood, father.", she said rather obediently as she looked into his eyes, showing little emotion or even expression.
Her obedient, almost machine-like, behavior really troubled him at times. This caused him to speak out, "Oh and another thing."
"Yes father", Agatha asked, talking no more than she thought she was supposed to.
"Please just be yourself around me.", he pointed out, picking up a glass of water and carefully examining it before he proceeded to drink from it.
"What do you mean?", she asked, unsure of what he meant. Taking a glass of water herself.
"You don't have be so restrictive and uptight around me, I'm not your mother. So please just relax and be yourself without worry. You're spending time with your father after all.", he replied, holding onto her hand still, "It wouldn't be right if you didn't enjoy this moment with all those rules and regulations your mother put into your head. So just let it go when you're around me as I want to spend time with my daughter."
Agatha's relaxed herself hearing those words, loosening her posture as she lay her head down on the table out of exhaustion, an action that caught Aiden off guard. She put her head up soon afterwards, "That feels so much better.", stretching widely as she let out a yawn without covering her mouth.
Amused, Aiden asked her to get up as even though he didn't have standards, he knew she shouldn't be doing things like putting her elbows on the table.
"Mom is so strict.", Agatha complained, wiping some the makeup off her face, "I wish she wasn't. I can never feel I can relax even when she's not there."
"Your mother just expects a lot from you, as do I.", Aiden said, laughing at her behavior.
"I just wish there weren't so many rules.", Agatha said, cracking her back to remove whatever stiffness remained, "She's relentless about them."
"She just wants to make sure you don't make mistakes. She fears losing you, Aggie.", Aiden mentioned, looking at her rebellious nature. It reminded him of his own growing up, "You should be fine for a couple days. Your mother should be prioritizing accommodating for our guest more than she prioritize controlling you, hahaha."
"Father", Agatha said nervously. Hearing him mention the girl at her house brought her uneasiness. It was a feeling that ate away at her chest. She couldn't help but feel a form of disgust at the thought of another girl her age being brought to her house and taking her mother's attention, "Am I feeling jealous?"
Unable to cope with these feelings, she decided to constructively manage them by springing about a question in a calm manner, "Yeah, about that. I wanted to ask you something."
Knowing he walked right into that one, Aiden knew she was suspicious and possibly feeling envious in some way, let her proceed, "Go ahead."
"Who is the girl you brought?", Agatha asked, giving him an intense glare comparable to his own from earlier. It was very clear there was some anger in the girl's eyes as she crossed her hands as she asked the question.
Aiden sighed, knowing that this would happen eventually. He looked at her and couldn't help but think he was looking into a mirror because of the intensity of her gaze. He knew to expect it but somehow not as late as she did. He came clean nevertheless, "She's just someone who needs a place to stay. It's only temporary so please don't worry too much about it but I don't blame you if you're feeling upset in any way."
Agatha calmed herself, relaxing her eyes showing such a gesture. The knowledge of her father knowing exactly how she would feel about this situation brought her ease. She looked down, apologizing through gesture before continuing her interrogation, "Dad, I'd hate to be rude but…"
"But?", Aiden repeated, knowing she was onto something. He readjusted his pose, appearing more visibly wary of what she might have wondered about.
"I can't help but feel something is off about her…", Agatha wiped her forehead, then placed her arms on the table.
"Elaborate", Aiden asked, not breaking eye contact with her. He noticed how much she was sweating just by asking.
"I can't say.", she placed her hand on her chin as if deducting something, "All I know is that whenever I looked at her, I saw Aunt Viola."
"I don't understand, in what way.", Aiden said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. He didn't want to give away information, but he wanted to confirm what she was thinking before blurting his next remark.
"It's hard to say in words.", Agatha said, completely perplexed by the purple-haired girl, "But the best I can put it is that, I looked at her and I could've sworn she reminded me of Auntie."
Aiden shrugged the remark, "How strange."
Agatha grew restless, "I must confess: I heard you and mom arguing last night. It related to Aunt Viola. I heard Mom weep, but she can't have been weeping for someone not there as she called her name. That has to be Auntie."
Closing his eyes, her father answered, "I cannot confirm or deny anything. Sorry, sweetheart but its work-related and you know I cannot talk about that stuff." He attempted to hold her hand to comfort her.
Agatha squinted her eyes, the features on her face tightened as she angrily put her hand away from him. She was throwing a tantrum.
"What's wrong?", he inquired, disappointed that he upset his child.
"It's always the same isn't it.", Agatha scowled, choosing not to look at him, "You visit few times a year and it's always out of work, not any other reason."
"I have a lot of work. What can I say?", Aiden said, attempting to conciliate her, "I'm sorry."
Agatha turned to face him, her angry tone changed to that of a more depressed one, "I wished you'd stay. I wish you and mom got along. I wished you two would stop fighting so much. I want to live a normal life like Emilia and the others."
Looking into his blood's face, Aiden placed both of his hands out, gesturing her to put her own out once more. His face was plagued with guilt.
Feeling that the last thing she'd want to do is be her mother regarding her old man, Agatha chose to comply, ultimately put her hand out for him to grab.
"Not everyone can have the same life, Agatha. Life would be boring. As much as I wished I grew up different, it wouldn't shape who I'd be today.", his voice was shaky, his hands trembling in hers as he spoke, "It's best to enjoy the life you have as opposed to what you could have had. People who try to actively change that are unhappy with everything. Are you unhappy with your life?"
"No, I'm not. I'm surrounded by people who love me, so no. I just wished I had both my parents like everyone else.", she responded, feeling heartache for putting her father on the brink of tears.
"Some things can't be changed Agatha. Some things are as they are because the One above willed it so and as his creations we cannot challenge that.", he felt disgusted as he mentioned religion in his statement but was too concerned over Agatha's discontent, "Your mom never knew her real parents either as the witch killed them shortly after she was born. I never knew my parents either, love."
"What about you? At least tell me what your childhood was like father."
Aiden sighed, remembering his old life.
"When I was born, my mother, gave me to one of the slaves. I was put in the care of an elderly woman who died when I was five. After that I met my younger half-sister when I was ten and she taught me how to read and write."
"Aunt Atsuko?", Agatha asked, remembering her aunt.
"Yes, Atsu", he recalled, the memories from his childhood times just eating away at him.
"What about your father?", Agatha wondered.
"He died shortly after I was born.", Aiden said dryly.
"What then?", Agatha asked, probing to know more.
"I moved here.", Aiden answered, unable to provide more information.
"Have you ever wanted to return there?", Agatha asked curiously.
"Never. I was never wanted as a kid. My only family is you, Viola and the rest. That woman isn't my mom, never was.", Aiden said, trying hard not to sound angry himself, "Relationships aren't solely built on blood, Agatha."
"But still...she.", Agatha pressed on.
"It doesn't concern me.", Aiden said, "My mom died ten years ago."
"What about Aunt Atsu...", she asked
Aiden answered, "We still talk...just not always. My duties and hers lie elsewhere. Thing is I rather not burden myself with ruling a country of all things, even if miraculously that woman became a better person. That's not the life I want to live."
"What do you want to do?", Agatha eventually asked after the long conversation.
He held his daughter's hand tightly. "I want to be able to provide for you and live a quiet life, watching you grow up. I want to be a part of your life and I thankfully am somewhat."
Those words pierced her ears, hearing them made the girl feel warm inside.
"I'm retiring from what I do soon. Give me six months and I'll settle in, so I can see you more from now on. I'll confess everything by then.", he implored.
"But what about mom?", Agatha couldn't help but ask.
"I can't do anything about her.", He said nonchalantly, "Your mom can do whatever she wants but she knows she can't keep you away from me."
Agatha stood up, walking around the table and quickly wrapped her arms around Aiden, "I love you."
"Same.", Aiden replied, unable to bring himself to say the exact words.
Some time later, the food arrived at the table. The waiter served them some roasted chicken and vegies with the aforementioned ramen noodle soup. The pair decided to dig in, not wanting to fester the food.
Agatha put her sleeves up slightly, wrapping a napkin around her neck as she prepared her fork. She assessed the food, imagining how delectable it would be. She seemed to have been waiting for something as she didn't budge from her position.
"Um, Agatha", Aiden questioned, scratching his forehead, "You know you don't need to be stiff around me. You can eat, it's not like you need my permission to get started. Just relax yourself."
She smiled at those words. She placed her bowl of noodles on the side of her plate and mixed a couple of pieces of chicken and corn in there and began to mix it.
The sight amazed Aiden, as he thought of doing the same thing. The part that made his eyes widen was the fact that she did that without him teaching it to her, not even having the chance to even grab a bowl before doing so. "I wonder why Martha prevents her from doing this.", he shook his head in disapproval.
Not too long afterwards, he noticed that Agatha was eating a little too fast, barely chewing her food before swallowing it. Aiden didn't blame her for it as she hadn't eaten since breakfast, but his concern was raised when he heard a peculiar sound.
"Hic"
He raised his head, looking forward as he realized the sound came from his seven-year-old.
"Hic. Hic. Hic"
He quickly discerned it was hiccups and thus acted accordingly. He poured a glass of water and handed it to his daughter, but not before speaking up, "Please don't eat so fast. Otherwise, you'll get sick."
Agatha humbly apologized, grabbing the glass out of desperation soon afterwards. She placed the glass against her mouth, taking slow sips to accommodate the imbalance in her diaphragm. After she was finished, she waited a little bit to make sure the hiccups have subsided.
"They're gone.", she thought to herself. She looked at the man in front of her, moved by his leniency and kindness towards her, heartfully telling him, "Thank you!"
"You're welcome.", Aiden not hesitating to reply. Before the father and daughter could resume their meal, Aiden caught her off guard, "Hold still."
He raised a napkin toward her face, placing below her lips as he wiped the sauce off her chin. Agatha didn't know how to respond to that, feeling mortified as her face became red. Her smile contradicted that however.
The duo finished their food, not having to say another word to each other. They then proceeded to head home.
As Agatha rushed ahead of him, Aiden struggled the maintain his balanced. The pain in his arm was throbbing as he suggested her not to run so fast.
Finding herself in the within the compounds of a mysterious camp after dusk, Martha couldn't bring herself to move. It was as if something was keeping her arms and legs tied. Upon further inspection, she discerned that she was tied to a large wooden rod fixture from her waist, arms and legs.
As she woke to nothing but pitch-black darkness, she heard various percussive instruments in the area around her; these ranged from large drums to tambourines as well as incessant rattling. All these were interwoven with intense, incoherent hooting and chattering.
After several minutes of the noises, a violent flame lit up in front of her.
Martha froze, suddenly realizing where she was. Feeling her heart pound as her eyes filled with despair, she found herself sweating profusely at the mere memory of this place. The fire seemingly called out to her, her situation reminding her of one of the saints that died by its hands.
Quickly snapping out of it, she averted her eyes from the blaze only to come across a large injury resembling a bite mark on her left shoulder blade; it was still relatively fresh too as the blood had not finished drying. The size of the mark seemed to be that of a human male.
She wanted to scream at the sight of this, but the stench-ridden gag tied around her face prevented her from doing so. However, this wouldn't be the last of her worries as she felt a sharp throbbing of pain attack her abdomen as if in response to the sight of the laceration on her shoulder from earlier.
She thought to herself, "No….no…. I remember looking down there for years after I was cut there initially. I was told nothing was taken from me but…"
Lacking the time needed to even ponder on such a memory, she was quickly approached by several obscured figures. The sight of them made her wanted to feign unconsciousness as she'd rather have that than relive what she experienced back then; but alas, the trauma from the situation caused her thinking to become muddled much like back then and it prevented her from even doing that. It didn't matter how many times she'd relive the experience, it was forever engraved into her psyche.
The tribesmen continued towards her while brandishing whips and stone weapons in hand, their faces partially obscured by the darkness. Martha tried moving in response to their movement, but both her binds and her stomach injury impeded this.
"Please Almighty, I implore the Lord…", she thought to herself, "Please, please, please…"
Upon approaching her, they untied her and pinned her to the ground. As she lay flat there, writhing from the several pains in her body, she felt a dirty hand pull her red hair from behind causing her to let out a muffled pain-stricken scream that enveloped the night sky around her. Her screaming was cut short, however, as she felt the backhand from another one of those tribesmen strike her across the cheek.
She fell silent after that. With that done, they proceeded to have their way with her. She felt her dress being ripped from behind revealing several bite marks like the one she saw on her shoulder earlier.
Incidentally, one of the men brought forth a branding iron where she laid. Placing her hair up, the savage heartlessly placed the iron on her upper back. Feeling the hot iron touch her soft skin, Martha attempted to scream but the gag from earlier stopped the sound from even escaping her mouth.
Having nearly fallen unconscious from that ordeal, she was forced to lay down freshly burnt back. She stared in the empty black sky, oblivious to the tribesman standing above her. The man brandished his stone knife and ripped away the front part of her dress.
Indifferent to the shame at this point, Martha just felt the desire to die. She remembered experiencing all this once before, only back then, she had lost her mind prior to all this torture. She closed her eyes and passed out from the various pains in her body, paying no mind to the attempted incision being made above her bosom.
As the lights faded, the sound of the blade piercing through her skin reached her ears.
Martha finally opened her eyes. She sat up; waking up in a panicking fit. She realized she had been laying down on the sofa in her own home after breakfast. She examined her forehead; her hand having become very drenched with her own sweat after doing so. She looked down toward her dress, and upon examination come to learn that her entire top of it had been bathed in sweat.
The sight of such thing trembled her; her hands shook in horror. Without a second thought, she made her way to her bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet behind it. She pulled out a small vial, which she quickly twisted the tap off and dropped a few tablets in her mouth. She then cupped her hands on the faucet as she drank from it.
She looked at her bathroom mirror, panting heavily as her expression conveyed relief from her shock, "Why? Why am I so cursed such that even after seven years that experience just haunts me? Why despite the medications I'm required to take? Am I that forsaken?"
Composing herself, she took a quick shower and got changed afterwards. She examined her body, her shoulder and back, more specifically. She still had the scars from the flesh torn bites she had then, and she was saddened, "I can't let her see me like this. I don't want her to ever worry for me. I want her to be strong. Agatha, I'm sorry for the constant high expectations I have for you and I put you through. One day, I hope you forgive me."
Leaving the bathroom, she quickly picked up her holy text and sat down to relax herself. However, after a few pages, she couldn't bring herself to read it any further. Putting the testament down down, she looked around her humble abode, admiring the framed photos of her daughter and herself alongside the other austere decorations that hung on the light green walls.
She lived in a rather small house; fitting for a family of two. She did have a guest room in the event somebody needed a temporary place to stay, however, whatever the reason may be. She was a rather giving woman, running the day care funded by the church so it was only fitting she'd offer charity in her home, at least to those who deserved it.
By choice or chance, she came across this peaceful town with a neighborly community. It was a town that was the among the furthest away from the Witch's territory; It was still possible for children to get lost in the forest around it, though, on average, the likelihood of that transpiring was on the lower end of the spectrum, especially in this town.
That's what she desired deep down: to be away from the dangers of her old village. In the past, she'd often suggest her adoptive family come live with her here; however, neither she nor they could procure enough money, even with the church's help to bring them here through the waters. She didn't want to borrow money from Aiden out of both pride and disdain; in spite of that, recent events have caused this disdainful conviction of hers to waver, though only a minuscule amount.
It was due to this that she couldn't concentrate on her daily ritual. She couldn't bring herself to think about what had happened to her adoptive sister, if that was her adoptive sister, and tried, in vain, not to think about it.
Surely, she'd think Viola would eventually tell her about it, but the girl has been practically asleep all morning due to staying up late last night from the events that occurred then. Martha's was perplexed, conflicted on this.
On one hand, Aiden could've been lying to her that it was Viola; however, she knew Aiden doesn't lie, at least directly. On another, if it was Viola, she wanted to protect her from him as she simply had to in order for further misfortune not to fall her.
After several minutes of ruminating, she faltered; her big sister instincts overtook her pathological suspicion she had for the girl. It there was a chance that she could be there for her sister, she would as she failed to be there for Cheryl and she abandoned the one who gave her fatherly love out of her own selfish devotion. Even though he forgave her, she felt guilty on both accounts.
Martha went into the kitchen and prepared a late breakfast for the girl. She quickly whipped up a simple omelet with green peppers, cheese and beef. Bringing a glass of orange juice with her to compliment the breakfast, she headed upstairs.
Turning into the hallway, she came across the second door to the left, stopping short of it. She was nervous, barely mustering up the courage to bring her hands to even to reach the door.
She was shaking again, "Can I bring myself to face her?" She then clenched her fist and knocked the door hard but gently.
"Come on in", spoke a voice from the opposite end; it was clear based on the pitch of the voice that it was the girl Aiden brought with him.
Not hesitating to open the door, Martha had been taken aback by the fact that the girl had been awake despite sleeping for hours earlier. She could only imagine how long she had been awake as she headed towards her, "Hey, sorry. I just thought I'd bring this for you."
Curious towards the woman's behavior, Viola just gave her a concerned look. There was a long and awkward silence between the two afterwards.
"I-is it r-really y-ou Viola? I'm sorry if you think I'm d-doubting you but I j-just want to make sure.", Martha asked, breaking the silence. She couldn't help but feel goosebumps as she never technically encountered this girl before.
Her yellow eyes lit up at the mention of her name, "Yes, of course it is. Why wouldn't it be, Martha?"
Feeling her heart being picked at due to the uncertainty of the situation, Martha remained skeptical in her heart. She had trouble believing her, so she asked her a question only Travis and Viola knew the answer to, "I can't bring myself to believe you…I'm going to need you to answer a specific question."
"Okay", Viola responded in an obedient tone.
Raising her eyebrow in suspicion, she vocalized her question, "What is Agatha's middle name?"
Viola looked at her with confidence as she responded, "Leticia. Her middle name is Leticia. It was a name you derived from the holy scriptures."
With that, she was convinced. She hurried over to the girl, placing the breakfast tray on the side of her bed before hugging her, "I'm sorry I had my doubts about you, it's just I've had to deal with my fair share of lies over the years. I wanted to believe it was you, but anybody is capable of saying anything these days. I'm so sorry dear."
Viola thought about it. Leticia is the middle name Martha decided to give her since her daughter adopted her surname not Aiden's. Since Aiden never visited Viola or Travis within ten years, the name was kept in the family. It was a rather clever way of testing her, she admitted.
A sweet aroma filtered through Viola's nose as Martha embraced her; it smelt like roses and honey. Before long, she parted from the affectionate gesture, releasing a smile to the older woman.
"I apologize for the awkwardness, but I had a hard time believing it was you at first, Vi.", Martha stated, adding a hint of playfulness with her concern, "I mean your new look; its just hard to get used to it. It's almost funny as it feels like the old days. I mean ten years have passed and you're still just a small child."
Viola blushed, pouting her face, "I'd rather be a child than an old hag. You act and dress like you're fifty or something when you're like half that age."
Martha couldn't help but chuckle at her playful mark, "Yeah, you're definitely Viola. Also, hey its not my fault. Kids make you feel older than you actually are."
"Whatever, hag", Viola said, ignoring her response playfully before turning her attention toward the tray of food that was brought for her.
Taking notice of this, Martha acted accordingly, "Oh, will this be enough? I knew they were your favorite, but I couldn't help but think I could've done better. I can't make them as good as father does."
"Nah, it's fine.", responded Viola anticlimactically, "He's always made them too large. Not to mention, I'm technically a little girl, so I don't think I can eat that much."
Viola dug into her omelet with the utensils given to her, proceeding to eat. Savoring every bit of flavor, after a couple of sips and a few bites, Martha reached behind her back, gripping her skirt tightly as she did so.
"Is something wrong, Martha?", Viola inquired, having nearly finished her food. She wiped her face with a given napkin as she turned her attention towards her.
Noticing this was the case, Martha placed her hand on Viola's shoulder, "About last night. I didn't mean to lash out at him to the extent I did. It's just my anger gets the better of me; it hurts me, it kills me inside because it makes me do terrible things. It's the primary reason I let one of my students help me look after my daughter."
"What are you getting at?", Viola asked, suspicious as she finished her food. She put on a more serious expression. She knew for a fact that Martha was too devout in faith to consider apologizing about Aiden. She guessed she had an ulterior motive of sorts.
"I'd like to discuss urgent matters with you.", Martha replied, confirming Viola's suspicions, "In regard to Aiden, I want you to stay away from him. He's like a plague that brings suffering, Vi."
The words rang within her ears; she didn't know what to say, she couldn't even think clearly. She threw her fork into the wall, unable to look at the woman who said them. She spoke up, "How can you say such a thing? I told you I won't hear a word against him."
The action itself tore at Martha's heart but she responded calmly, "I'm only speaking in your best interest. You misplace your faith in him. I'm sorry if you'd rather not hear any of this and it hurts to hear it, regardless. All I'm saying is you're better off staying away from him Viola, he's not a saint, he's very dangerous."
"What is the matter with you?", Viola asked, yellow eyes blazing at her adoptive sister, annoyed that the woman showed relative indifference in her expression, "I know what he's like. Why are you like this? Is it because he ruined your life so bad?"
"Yes", Martha replied swiftly, "But that is not the reason why I'm asking you to do so. You'll suffer endlessly being near him and I don't want you to get hurt."
Viola's face reddened, tears pouring from her eyes as she let out a tantrum, "He's flawed. He's very flawed Martha. But he's here for us. He's here for you. He was there for me in ways I never thought I could thank him enough for."
Feeling on the short end of her patience, she decided to stay calm for Viola's sake. However, when words escaped her mouth, her voice shook as tears of her own left her eyes, "Why? Why do you stick out for that man?"
"Because he saved me, Martha!", Viola retorted in a righteous fury, "More than once, several times. How could you just do what you did to him last night? Had it not been for me, I dunno what you would've done."
At a loss for words for the first time around, Martha instead let the girl state what she was talking about. Choosing to listen for once instead of throwing blind fury.
Viola stared at her with Ellen's violent eyes, "You want to even know HOW I even ended up before I came here. Had it not been for him, we wouldn't even be talking right now."
The older woman grew contemplative; she wondered what caused Viola to get to where she was right now but couldn't bring herself to ask her. She witnessed Viola panting, exhausting all of her rage. Martha calmed her down, asking her to breath lightly as she suggested she continue drinking her beverage, which the girl obliged to.
"Thank you", Viola said in a more even voice, "I befriended this girl, Ellen. She lived in the middle of the forest."
Martha simply nodded to her remark.
"Little did I know at the time, she was the witch everybody was talking about.", Viola added on, shaking somewhat at the old memories.
Putting a name to the legend was something else to Martha, she couldn't help but feel that she was humanized in a way. However, she simply continued to listen, placing her hands together gently as she did so.
"Ellen tricked me and took my old body under the façade that it was only for a day. However, prior to the switch, she cut off her own legs and removed her eyes." Viola said, turning pale at the remembrance of such.
Martha felt attacked after hearing that; but upon turning to the girl, she came to realize that Viola shook uncontrollably at the mention. In an act of comfort, she gestured her sister to just rest her head on her lap. She empathized with her in the sense that that description was no different from her torture.
She dared to ask her, starting to cry herself, "Then what happened?"
Burying her face from the sadness in the woman's lap, allowing her tears to soak her dress, "I tried to stop her, trapping her with her old magic. I didn't want her to hurt father. In vain, despite the shortcomings I had at the time, I wanted to stop her. I chased her outside and…."
The young mother had a feeling she wouldn't be prepared for what was going to be mentioned next.
"Father arrived there. He was looking for me earlier. Mistaking Ellen for me, he protected her and pointed his gun at me." Viola buried herself further within the woman's lap, trying not to scream as she stated that.
"He didn't?", Martha said, trying to deny that it happened.
Viola bellowed in the woman's lap, kicking her feet up petulantly as she did so, "Daddy shot me! My own father looked at me, called me, his own daughter, a monster and shot me. The very same hands that guided me and raised me, shot me in the face!"
Turning the girl, Martha gentle stroked her face and hair, calming her down. She could hear the girl panting rapidly over her stomach. Martha replied, "He didn't. He didn't know. I don't know what to say."
"Do you know how it even feels to live with that?", Viola said, the snot in her nose having made its way down her face and subsequently Martha's lap.
Martha patted the girl's back, she herself doing any better in containing her tears, "Let it out. Just let it all out, Vi."
Viola continued to do so, her cries piercing Martha's ears, her moans echoing across the room. Martha could only imagine how long she had been holding onto these grievances.
"On the brink of death, Aiden was there, and he rescued me. Yes, the very same man you don't hesitate to attack. He saved me, fixed up this body for me and he entrusted me to his wife while he searched for all the answers." Viola found herself breathing normally now, sitting up as she looked at her face.
Martha shook her head in denial.
Annoyed at how difficult she was being, Viola continued, "He's hurting Martha. He's in pain. He's hiding things. Hiding them from not only us but dad too so none of us get the chance to suffer."
"How could you even say that with such confidence? Aiden doesn't let anybody in.", Martha demanded.
Viola sighed, "I've seen his memories and memories can never be fake, Martha. After the spirit of the house possessed his wife and attacked him, I was able to see all his memories and I was able to remember everything about what our home used to be like. I know secrets so gruesome of his, it hurts for me to breath."
"What is it? Is it about, Madame? Please tell me.", Martha asked desperately.
The girl placed her face in her hands, she was still disturbed from all of this, "I can't bring myself to answer that. Please don't press me, I can't...Only Aiden can tell you that. That's why I can't take it when you just vilify him for no reason."
"Viola, Viola!", Martha said, shaking the girl lightly before continuing, "Just calm down. I'm sorry for pushing that on you. It's just…"
"Why couldn't you be there for me Martha when she passed away?", Viola moaned, looking at her adoptive sister.
Those words taunted the woman's ears, they repeated throughout her mind.
"Why couldn't you be there for me?"
"I was so stupid. I couldn't think straight from all the destruction of the church; I just wanted to let the witch kill me. I should've known this would happen to you. ", Martha stated in a rather hoarse voice. She embraced the girl, apologizing for not understanding.
"What happened to you within ten years that caused you to hate Aiden so much?", Viola said, wiping her tears against her shoulder.
"He was the one who burned the church down. He has never told me what happened to Madame.", Martha said, unable to control the internal coldness she felt, "After the church burned down, I ran away, got thrown into a psyche ward, kidnapped, tortured by brutes."
Viola opted to listen, allowing Martha to give her end of the story, "You were tortured?"
Martha stretched her collar, revealing a large scar from the incision she had in her nightmare, "Yes, yes I was." She then tucked her collar in and turned around, revealing the burn scar from the branding iron as well.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know.", Viola added, "But it wasn't his fault."
"I suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, Vi", the woman said, turning herself around, calming herself as well, "Like I said, I didn't intend to hurt him the extent I did last night, but I simply just couldn't control myself. I take several medications, put on a level-headed façade around my students."
"Martha?", Viola grew curious as she never saw this side of Martha before. Come to think of it, she never knew what Martha wanted in life aside from knowing she was raised by the church.
"I wanted to be a symbol of hope to those lost through misfortune. I swore never to be devoted to anyone other than the One above. I wanted to join a convent growing up, taking in others and having a larger family born from our shared losses.", Martha said, smiling as she remembered her original dreams, "I never intended on being a mother, and I was given a child that I when I didn't want one. Because of those things, its not possible for me anymore with my chastity robbed."
"You're being selfish, Martha?", Viola pointed out, "What about Agatha? Do you hate her then? Is this why you so harsh on her?"
"No, I may be a strict mother, but I can never hate someone who is a part of me, my own blood as well." Martha replied, "I look at her and see a reflection of myself. Truth is, while I can't stand Aiden, I can never truly hate Agatha. She is the little family I have left, and I don't want her to feel like she's missing anything."
"Is that why you let her see him?", Viola pondered, "Don't get me wrong, I'm just confused here. If you hated him so much, wouldn't you prevent her from seeing him. I just don't understand that."
Martha looked at Viola, squinting as she responded, "What kind of cruel woman would prevent her daughter from seeing her own father? I may be hateful but I'm not blind. It's just that, I'm reminded of the fatherly love Travis went out of his way and gave me even though I wasn't his daughter. What right do I have from denying Agatha something when the Lord didn't deny me it? I can't deprive her of something I myself found endearing. I'd be no different from those who abandon their children."
"Even though Aiden is born cursed?", Viola asked.
"Yes, because I just didn't think I'd ever experience it when my biological parents were killed." Martha retorted, "But it's not like I don't have conditions and rules for him. He must follow them otherwise I threaten to move, which I know he's not okay with. Not that I have the intention of moving, I like it here."
"Speaking of dads, do you have any idea how dad has been?", Viola asked, troubled by not seeing her father, "I haven't seen him in almost three weeks."
"I visited him earlier last week to check up on him, leaving Agatha in Emilia's care. Things seem to be normal. That witch Ellen seems to not be bothering him, given what you told me." Martha reviewing her old visit.
"That's good to hear.", Viola felt at ease.
"Oh look, you're finished. I got to clean up now.", Martha said, picking up the tray and all its contents.
"Martha?", Viola called out.
"Yes", she responded.
Viola spoke up, "One other thing: please refrain from lashing out at him. I understand that you have your reasons but due to my current situation, Aiden's life is connected to my own. If he dies, so will I."
Martha turned around just before she entered the hallway, "I don't understand, how so?"
"That injury you gave him severely limited his prowess. He was holding a cane this morning.", she replied.
"Why can't he just heal from it like the various times he did?", Martha questioned.
Viola cleared her throat, "Reviving like he does has the negative of allowing anger to get to everything around him. Healing faster causes people to become easily angry. Also, he's using all his power to sustain me and giving himself bare minimum. It's why he's so weak right now. He's also thinking about your trauma and your anger which is why he didn't do it either."
"Why does he need to give you that energy?", Martha asked, scratching her head.
"Well, the thing is Ellen was born like three centuries ago; she was a little girl with an incurable illness.", Viola answered, organizing her thoughts, "She formed a pact with the demon after killing her parents. The demon gave her a house which she used to kill countless people before she took my body."
"So you're telling me that she took your body because her illness still progressed inside her all these years, and it hasn't been cured since?", Martha said, placing her hand on her chin as she thought about it, "And you only appear healthy right now because…"
"Of Aiden", Viola replied, "Yes. He's the only reason we are able to talk right now. The body needs magical energy to survive and after the house vanished, Aiden offered his own wellbeing."
"That wretch!", Martha proclaimed, fighting her reflexes as she looked at Viola. She subconsciously wanted to punch her since she was in Ellen's body, but knew that would do little good so she restrained herself.
"So that's why I'm begging you.", Viola said, "For the sake of our father, my health and honoring my mother, please don't needlessly attack him. He's hiding stuff but I'm sure he's willing to divulge it if you change your approach. You both are the only family I have to turn to."
Moved by this word, Martha simply turned to the side with a sad, somber look that Viola couldn't see, "I'm sorry for not understanding. I'll try my best. But if he falls out of line and gets Agatha involved in this, I'm not going to be okay with it. He promised he'd keep her away from that stuff. Just know this though, and Aiden will tell you this himself, misfortune follows in his wake and he himself admits he'd rather stay away."
A/N: This chapter is probably one of the shortest I've done in a while and its been a while since I posted chapters a month apart. Thank you for those who have been supporting me all these years and dealing with my shortcomings as a writer. Be sure to give a like and follow if you want to be.
