Her Rebirth.-Chapter 113

Tw: Mention of child molestation and child abuse

Lilac’s childhood was anything but blissful. Her father was a man who had a one-night affair with her mother, and after that, they had never seen each other again. Eve didn’t know she was pregnant until three months later when she discovered she was beginning to bloat and vomit a lot. When she gave birth, her mother barely had any time for her, as she was always with one man or another. She was basically neglected.

The apartment they lived in always felt cold, even in the height of summer. The floorboards creaked from years of wear; the fridge was often empty, save for a rotting fruit or a near-expired carton of milk. Clothes were hand-me-downs scavenged from charity bins or discarded by lovers who forgot them in haste. Some were too big, some too small but Lilac wore them all without complaint. She learned early on that complaints went unheard in that house.

At five, she knew how to silence her own sobs. At six, she learned to sleep through drunken fights. At seven, she stopped asking her mother to attend school events because Eve never remembered and when she did, she showed up late, reeking of alcohol and poorly concealed disdain.

Sometimes, Eve wouldn’t come home for days. Lilac would crouch by the window, stomach gnawing itself in hunger, watching headlights pass by in the hope one of them would bring her mother back. She’d survive on stale crackers or stolen leftovers from neighbors’ doorsteps. When the cold set in and they couldn’t afford heating, Lilac wrapped herself in thin blankets, teeth chattering, curled up on the floor like a stray dog. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Worse than the hunger or the cold was the loneliness she felt—a deep, cavernous thing. No one tucked her in. No one kissed her bruises or praised her drawings. Her laughter, when it did come, was too soft to echo in that house. The only voices she ever heard were the ones coming from behind her mother’s bedroom door, moans, arguments, and sometimes, crying.

One winter, she got sick. Feverish and shaking, she lay alone in bed for two days. Eve never noticed. When she finally returned home, she muttered something about being too busy and handed Lilac a bottle of expired cough syrup, then went back to her room with a new man. Lilac drank it anyway. She always had to fix herself.

By the time she was eight, Lilac had lost any hope that she may be loved. She told herself stories before bed—ones where a real mother would brush her hair and tell her she mattered, that she was beautiful, wanted, enough. But she knew that it was all fake. No one would want her, no one would love her...

Not until she met Amelia.

To Lilac, Amelia was her saviour, an angel who stretched out her hands to her, to bring her out of darkness into light, and Lilac wanted this little angel all to herself. So she hoped, she made the angel make a promise that she’d be her friend forever, she’d be with her forever.

But fate isn’t so kind, is it?

When she came back from the park that day, it wasn’t a surprise when she heard moans from her mother’s room. She ignored it, though mildly annoyed and irritated, and went to sleep at her corner on the floor.

But then...

Why was she feeling a chubby hand crawl up her body? Why were his hands going to places he shouldn’t go? Why was he doing this to her?

Mother, save me... Amelia, save me... Amelia, please save me... Someone, please save me... Anyone... Please... God... Why?!!!

She was tainted, she was, as one may say, no longer pure. She couldn’t allow Amelia to see her—she was filthy. So she hid. Though Amelia never saw her, she always saw Amelia, hiding by the corner, hiding away from her.

Amelia couldn’t see her like this... not when she’s filthy.

A month passed by that way, and Eve, upon discovering what had happened to her, looked at her with guilt for the first time, pulled her into an embrace, and cried out,

"I’m sorry, Lilac. Mommy was wrong," she had cried.

But Lilac felt nothing. She finally had the warmth she had always craved, but she didn’t want it anymore. Instead, she felt irritated by it.

Eve had made them pack out, scared that the house may still trigger her, and Eve no longer brought men, no longer got drunk as she used to. She tried to make up for all she had done, mostly out of guilt, but now it was too late.

Instead, Lilac felt angry that she had been taken far away from where she could see Amelia. She could no longer see her little angel.

One year passed like a blur, and Lilac noticed her mother was finally dating a man. He looked quite wealthy, and from what she had heard her say, he was her first love, but they had drifted away due to the fact they were from different worlds. Eve seemed happier, livelier, like she was truly in love—and maybe she was, because not long after that, the man had stood before her, a gentle smile on his lips as he ruffled her hair and said,

"Hello, princess. I’m your new father, Mason Cosgrove, and from now on, you will bear the Cosgrove name."

Lilac couldn’t remember much of what happened after that. All she remembered was that she stood before a huge mansion, with various maids rushing to serve her, and at the center of the mansion was the one whom her heart had longed for.

Her angel.

Her saviour.

Her Amelia.

But why... why was she crying? Why was she looking at her with resentment? What did she do wrong?

Did she hate her...? Please don’t hate me... Please look at me... Hate me... Look at me... Please look at me... I love you... Why can’t you just look at me...? Why are you looking at them...? Why are they coming in our way...? Why are they taking your attention, Amelia...? Why are you smiling at her...? You don’t smile at me... Why are you looking at him that way...? You are meant to look at me that way.

ME!

ME!!!

YOU ARE MINE!!!