Scars Run Deep: Chapter 3 - Broken Wings
I own nothing. Even Scheherazade is based on another fairy tale, partially inspired by StarKid's show "Twisted", although Jafar is not as altruistic as he is in that show.
Just a short snippet this time. I'm constantly reviewing and revising what I have, but I do have several chapters done. Every time I read them though, I edit them or add more. The last chapter wasn't actually in my original draft, but I was inspired by a later plot point in the story.
TRIGGER WARNING…There is a lead up and aftermath of physical torture in this chapter, although it is not explicit. The actual act is not included, but I want to give fair warning. Child abuse is terrible, but it does exist. I was lucky to grow up in a home without abuse, so I admit to not knowing how it might affect others. If you are in an abusive situation, then I encourage you to seek help. I am taking Maleficent to an extreme in this story, as I explore how truly vile villains can affect a child.
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Mal's Point of View
I was in awe! I woke up this morning with the most beautiful pair of purple wings. They were a deep, rich color and they complimented my hair. I started preening in front of the mirror, feeling pretty for the first time in my life. I didn't usually care about beauty, but my new wings gave me a confidence that I couldn't contain. This was the best birthday gift ever! Six years old was going to amazing!
I found my favorite outfit and realized that I had no way of putting it on. My pants and boots were fine, but my shirt's all got in the way of my wings. As I looked deeper into my closet, I found a dress that Scheherazade had given me for Christmas last year. I wore it for her once, and then pushed it to the back of my closet because dresses were not conducive to keeping up with Jay on our adventures. I pulled the dress over my head, and the scooped back allowed my wings to stretch out behind me unimpeded.
"Mother, look at my pretty wings. Now I look like you did when you were younger!" I knew that my mother missed her wings, so I hoped that she would be excited that I had inherited them. She didn't say anything to me, but I was wary of the look in her eyes. That look was usually a precursor to pain. I ran to the front door, but it had already been locked and I couldn't get out.
My mother returned to the room, wearing thick gloves and with an iron chain in her hands. My eyes widened as I backed up until my back hit the door. "Please mother, don't hurt me." I knew how iron could burn faeries, but this was the first time that my mother had deliberately approached me with the substance. I only hoped that the part of my father in me would make me immune to the iron chains in my mother's hands. It didn't.
Once my mother finished, she threw my wings in the fire and left me bleeding on the floor. I managed to pull myself to my feet and sneak away to Jay's house. His mom had helped me before when I was injured, so maybe she could do something now. I managed to get to Jay's house without being seen, and I was barely able to stand.
Jay jumped up and ran towards me, reaching under my right arm to keep me upright. His hands touched my back in the process, and I choked back a scream. He jumped backwards and looked at his hand. "Mom, "he shouted, "Mal's covered in blood!" I started to fall sideways and Jay reached out to hold me up again. This time he supported me by my armpits, keeping his hands off of my back.
Scheherazade came into the room and gasped in shock. She told Jay to lay me down on my stomach on his bed and to run and get the first aid kit. He gently lowered me to the bed and ran out the door to grab the supplies his mother needed to treat me. She brushed my hair back and softly spoke to me, telling me that everything would be okay, and how proud she was of me for being so brave. "You are doing so well. I know it hurts sweetie, but I'll do everything I can to help you. Can you tell me what happened?"
I was trying hard not to cry and to push through the pain. "I grew wings this morning, but my mother didn't like them and cut them off." I spilled the whole story. Starting with my excitement over my new wings, telling her about the agonizing pain of losing them, and finishing with my silent trip through the streets to her house. "I knew that you would take care of me, because you care more than my mother does." I could feel Scheherazade's tears falling onto my shoulder, and I felt bad for making her cry. "It's okay mom, I'm tough…" I stopped suddenly, realizing that I had called her my mom. I looked up in fear and wondered if I was going to be kicked out for my audacity. I started to babble, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that..."
Jay's mom stopped me and smiled through her tears. "You are the daughter of my heart, and just as dear to me as Jay is. You don't have to apologize, and I am so happy that you feel comfortable enough to call me your mom. Maleficent may have birthed you, but I love you like a true daughter."
I looked over her shoulder and saw Jay nodding. "You're practically my sister," he said, "and don't ever forget that."
I started to cry again, but this time they were tears of joy mixed with the pain. I winced as my true mom poured antiseptic on my wounds and bandaged my torso before giving me one of Jay's shirts to wear. It was large enough that it didn't put pressure on my back, and it served to cover up my bandages. "Thank you, and I love you both."
I cuddled into my mom's side as Jay sat on the back of the couch and stroked my hair. This may have been one of the worst days of my life because I lost my wings, but it was also the best day of my life because I gained a true family. A mother and brother who cared about me and loved me in a way that Maleficent did not.
