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878 Words
Serena worked tirelessly, scrubbing the last of the clothes in the bucket. Her hands ached, and her shoulders burned from the effort, but she finally managed to finish. She exhaled deeply, wiping her damp hands on her dress as she gazed at the bucket filled with freshly washed clothes.
The faint music from Mia’s party floated in the distance, reminding her of what she was missing. Determined to steal a few moments of joy, she quickly hung the clothes on the line. But as she turned, ready to make her escape, she froze. Hart stood behind her, a basket filled with more dirty laundry in his hands.
“Oops, I must’ve missed these earlier,” Hart said with mock innocence, dumping the clothes onto the ground in front of her.
Without waiting for a response, he sauntered back toward the house, his laughter echoing in the night. Serena clenched her fists, fury bubbling beneath the surface. She knew he’d done it on purpose. He always did.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to memories she wished she could erase. Her mother’s face flashed in her mind, kind and warm, and then the flames that had taken her away. Serena had been so young, just a curious child fascinated by fire. She didn’t know her powers were real back then, didn’t understand the danger she posed.
The guilt never left her. Neither did the whispers. The witch who burned her mother. The cursed hybrid. Those words followed her everywhere, cutting deeper each time. The triplets, led by Hart, never let her forget her past. They used it to break her spirit, to keep her in her place.
A sharp voice snapped her back to the present. “Serena!”
She turned to see Helen, Hart’s girlfriend, leaning against the doorway. Her arms were crossed, and a cruel smile played on her lips.
“What are you doing out here?” Helen sneered. “Trying to look busy? Or just enjoying your little maid duties?”
Serena ignored her, picking up the next piece of clothing to wash.
Helen’s smile widened. “Oh, come on, don’t pretend you can’t hear me. You’re so pathetic, Serena. It’s no wonder everyone thinks you’re a freak.”
Serena gritted her teeth, refusing to engage.
“Still quiet, huh? Fine, I’ll talk for both of us,” Helen continued, her tone venomous. “You’re just a murderer. A useless little witch who killed her own mother. How does it feel, knowing you’ll never be anything more than that?”
The word witch struck a nerve. Serena’s hands trembled as she scrubbed harder, her jaw tightening.
“Shut up, Helen,” she muttered, barely above a whisper.
Helen stepped closer, her voice a dangerous whisper. “What’s the matter? Don’t like the truth? You’re a murderer, Serena. And everyone knows it.”
Serena’s anger boiled over. She spun around, her hands shaking. “Don’t you dare talk about my mother!”
Without thinking, she grabbed Helen’s wrist. A surge of heat coursed through her, and suddenly, flames flickered to life around her hand. Helen’s eyes widened in horror as the fire leapt from Serena’s palm, catching the edge of her shirt.
Helen screamed, yanking her arm back and batting at the flames. “You burned me!” she shrieked, clutching her wrist where the fire had singed her skin.
Serena stumbled back, her heart pounding. “I didn’t mean to! I—I’m sorry!”
The sound of heavy footsteps made her stomach drop. Hart appeared, his expression dark and furious.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his eyes darting between Serena and the trembling Helen.
“She attacked me!” Helen cried, her voice trembling with anger and pain. “She’s dangerous, Hart! She’s a monster!”
Serena shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”
Hart didn’t wait for an explanation. He stormed toward Serena, his hand lashing out to strike her across the cheek. The force of the slap sent her stumbling backward.
“You’re nothing but trouble!” he yelled. “A freak, just like everyone says!”
Serena clutched her cheek, her tears falling freely now. “Hart, please, I didn’t mean to hurt her. I swear!”
But Hart’s attention was already on Helen, who was still clutching her burned wrist. “Come on,” he said, his tone softer but still cold. “We’re going to the hospital.”
He led Helen away, leaving Serena standing there, frozen in place.
The weight of what had just happened pressed down on her chest. She sank to the ground, her body trembling. What have I done?
The heat from the flames still lingered on her skin, a reminder of her loss of control. She knew Hart wouldn’t let this go. The fear of what was to come clawed at her, making it hard to breathe.
“If I can just survive these next few days,” she whispered to herself, “I’ll leave. I’ll get away from this pack, from this nightmare.”
The thought of running away was the only thing keeping her sane. In three days, she’d be eighteen. In three days, she’d be free.
- Writer
