Warning, dark themes

Part 4

New Orleans, 1892

"No, no, please," Flora sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

She didn't know what she had done wrong, but she could see how angry her mother was.

"It's time for you to learn a lesson," her mother stated coldly as she dragged Flora towards the bathroom.

"Filthy little whore… I wish you would have never been born… Think you're so pretty… Let's see about that…"

"I'm sorry, mother," Flora sobbed.

Her mother didn't say anything out loud, but once again Flora heard the words she didn't say. The words in her head.

"Whiny little cunt… Let's see if he still thinks you're pretty…"

Now Flora understood why her mother was angry. Because of her husband, Flora's stepfather. He was always nice to Flora; he brought her candy and often lifted her onto his lap. She had sometimes wanted to tell him that she was a big girl already and she didn't really want to sit on his lap, especially when he touched her strange ways, but she didn't want to anger him.

He was the only person who had ever been kind to her and looked after her. He had protected her from her mother; he didn't allow her to hurt Flora when he was at home. Now he wasn't. Before he had left, he had lifted Flora up and told her how beautiful she was. He had stroked her hair and said how lovely they were. Unfortunately her mother had seen that.

As long as Flora could remember, people had told her mother how beautiful child she was. There was something about her that drew people's attention. Her mother had always hated that and Flora had often prayed that she wouldn't look like this. She had tried her hardest to stay unnoticed, but her mother was never happy. She had sometimes called Flora a harlot or a whore and she thought about those words all the time. Flora didn't know what they meant, but she knew it was something bad. There was something wrong with her. She yelped in pain as her mother grabbed her hair.

"You think you have pretty hair?" she asked coldly.

"No," Flora murmured with a shaky voice. "I'm not pretty, I'm ugly."

"Yes, you are. It's time for you to stop acting like a common whore."

Once again Flora wanted to ask what that meant, but she was too afraid to say anything. Her mother had scissors and she started roughly to cut Flora's hair.

"This is for your own good," she stated. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, mother."

"I am doing this for you."

"Thank you, mother."

Flora didn't make a sound, although she was hurting. Her mother cut almost all of her hair off before ordering her to undress and get into the bathtub. The water was ice-cold, Flora tried to get out of the tub, but her mother forced her down.

"Wash yourself," she ordered coldly. "You're not getting out before you are clean."

Flora knew what that meant and she burst into tears. She would have to rub her skin until she would bleed.

"Mother, please…"

"Wash yourself. Now."

Her mother enjoyed this, Flora could feel that. She thought that Flora deserved this.

1903

"Where's Flora? Are you here? Come out, come out…"

Flora was humming and hugging herself tightly under the covers. She still wasn't sure was this real. Maybe she was still in that place, trapped in darkness and all of this was just her imagination. If it was, then she was determined to stay right here. She couldn't remember when she would have felt safe, but now she did. Her very own dark knight wasn't going to hurt her. The thought made her giggle.

He wanted to be so big and scary, but he really wasn't. After the hell she had been through, he seemed like an angel of mercy. Sure he was drawn to her, just like most men were, but he wasn't like most men. She had seen that when she had kissed him. He wasn't going to hurt her, she would be safe here. If this was real. Slowly she lifted the covers, afraid to see the light. It hurt her eyes after the long darkness. Thankfully the curtains were closed and the light couldn't get in. She looked at the white roses on the nightstand and smiled.

"Pretty, pretty roses…"

The flowers were pretty, she wasn't. During the years she had spent in the bad place, she had never seen her reflection in the mirror. Now she could, there were mirrors here, but she didn't want to. She didn't want to leave this room either, but she knew that her dark knight wanted her to repay his help. How could she ever make him understand? She didn't want to go back to darkness. She just wanted to stay here, in this room. It was the most wonderful room she had ever seen. A safe room.

No one came here and touched her. No one said mean things to her. She didn't have to hide and be afraid. She could finally rest and try to look for Flora. She had buried her somewhere deep that night all those years ago. It hadn't been her fault. It hadn't. She had tried her hardest to be ugly. Her mother had said that it had been Flora's fault. She had said that Flora had killed her stepfather and stepbrother.

People had believed her mother, why wouldn't they have. Why would have anyone listened to Flora. She was a filthy girl who tried to seduce all the men. Good, honorable men. Just the thought made Flora laugh. Their thoughts hadn't been honorable. They had been monsters wearing masks. That was why she liked her dark knight; he didn't pretend to be anything he wasn't. He was a monster and he didn't try to hide it. Yet she wasn't afraid of him. On the contrary, she liked him. She giggled and picked up one of the roses. Hopefully she would see him again soon.