Chapter 2

"Hazel! What the hell are you doing?! Taking a bath without closing the door?!"

Coming out of her bedroom, Mom let out a piercing shriek.

I froze in the bathtub, stunned, as she threw dirty laundry and towels at me. I slipped, falling hard against the porcelain.

"Barely eighteen and already trying to seduce people! You want some man to violate you just like they did to me, don't you?! Why did I ever give birth to such a filthy brat?!"

"I should have never had you! If I could choose again, I'd rather kill myself than give birth to you!"

She had said this countless times.

She always said that dressing nicely was just asking for men to look at me, and that I'd end up just like her.

So I never dared wear dresses. I never dared speak to my stepfather. I even gave myself an ugly, jagged buzzcut.

"B-but..." I pointed at the swirling red water in the tub, choking out broken words.

Mom froze for a few seconds.

Then, pure, frantic rage exploded:

"You think getting your period is something to celebrate?! Get knocked up by some man, and you'll spawn another worthless curse like yourself!"

"Get out right now! We're going to the hospital!"

Naked and shivering, I barely pulled on a nightgown before Mom dragged me out the door.

I didn't know what a period was.

I didn't understand why Mom hated it so much.

Was I bleeding because of my illness...?

She dragged me in front of the doctor and demanded they "stop the bleeding immediately."

The doctor looked at me, his eyes full of pity and disbelief.

"A menstrual cycle is normal. You can't just stop it."

"Though it is unusual that she's only starting now at eighteen. It's quite late..."

Mom turned and glared at me with sheer hatred.

As if this were my fault, too.

Just then, my stepfather, Mark, walked in holding Amy after picking her up from school. He glanced at my blood-stained nightgown and quickly realized what was happening.

He rarely bothered with my problems. After a moment of silence, he simply handed Amy to Mom.

"Calm down. Once she grows up and marries out, everything will be fine. Don't work yourself up."

Mom clung to Amy like a lifeline, temporarily escaping her internal torment, sobbing into the little girl's shoulder.

She muttered "my baby" over and over again.

After a brief silence, she turned back to me, spitting venom:

"Hazel! Why are you standing around in front of your stepdad?! Get into the bathroom! Clean yourself up before you come out!"

She pulled out a spray bottle of disinfectant and sprayed herself maniacally. The harsh fumes made me choke, and I bolted away.

Before the door slammed shut, I heard her crying to Mark:

"Every single day, I regret having her... She was sent by that demon just to torture me..."

The door closed.

I ran to the end of the hospital hallway, wiping myself with paper towels over and over, but the blood wouldn't stop.

Just like me, I could never become clean.

I sat on the toilet, waiting for the blood to run dry, but it kept flowing.

Panic consumed me. It felt like the sky was collapsing.

I frantically tried to figure out how to explain to Mom that I wasn't bleeding on purpose, only to walk out and find they had already left.

Heavy rain poured outside, hitting me so hard I could barely keep my eyes open.

The icy rain felt like it penetrated every joint in my bones, leaving me shivering and numb.

When I finally stumbled back home, I peered through the crack of the front door at a picture of warmth I could never touch.

Amy was sitting in Mom's lap, eating food off Mom's spoon bite by bite, dropping crumbs all over the floor.

I flinched out of pure reflex, accidentally pushing the door open.

Rainwater dripped from my clothes, mixed with blood and street mud, staining the entryway floor.

My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest.

The lively atmosphere at the dinner table died the second I appeared.