Bellamy:
"Just don't move," Ariel complained as she cleaned my feet with a wet cloth.
"I don't want you to touch my feet," I complained again, feeling awful as I watched her shake her head and take care of me. It had been two years since I became bedridden, and to be honest, things had only gotten worse since then.
My mother's body had been cremated, and my father was a mess. I had become another burden on his shoulders. I had lost my ability to walk somehow. The doctors said I was too weak to move around much, so I was confined to my bed. But it only pushed my father further into the depths of alcoholism since he lost my mother.
Lord Bernard was another mess of a man who didn't hold back when it came to making sure he brought us to our knees.
"Ariel! Stop this and tell me," I warned
