Hurting

Harlyn

I don’t move. Father glares at me as if he is willing to magically set me alight.

“She clearly deserved it. How many men had she propositioned for it to get to the point that one decided she deserved what she offered?” Father’s words attack me.

He thinks I deserved to be raped because I propositioned myself to too many men? I want to laugh, but my mind is silent, reeling from his new attempt to destroy my very soul.

Why does he hate me so much??

Why does he only see the bad?

Why does he always see something bad, and I’m to blame? Even this, me getting raped, is somehow my fault.

He can’t just accept it as truth. No, he has to find a way to blame it.

“She was a victim, Father, and it is wrong to blame her,” Samuel speaks, and I don’t see why he bothered; Father’s view of me will never change.

Nothing anyone says will make him change his view on this.

“She’s your daughter, our sister, and you’re calling her those vile names. Names that no woman should ever be called Father.” Samuel argues, and I want to thank him for sticking up for me, but he’s only making Father’s anger grow.

“She’s not my daughter. Did you forget that I disowned her? She was never my daughter.” His words are loud, and I feel parts of me breaking. “I never had such a worthless leech of a daughter.”

His words break everything within me. I was so sure I could do this, but somehow, Father knows how to cripple me with words. My eyes burn as I fight back the tears, and I fight back the emotions, but they continue to rise.

I won’t let him see me cry again, that I can be sure of. What did I do so badly to make him hate me so much?

“Father, you can blame the victim. Harly had a way of protecting herself, and your harsh words are wrong.” Samuel barks back, and I worry for him.

I want to leave, see Wayne, and seek comfort from his embrace. However, leaving will only break my mother’s heart. I stand, trying to reason with this man, but nothing I can think of will work.

“Harsh words?” Father laughs loudly, and my body jolts in fear. He steps towards Samuel with his fists cleaned. “You want to reprimand me?” he asks, his words growling. I don’t want Samuel hurt. I don’t want my brothers to disobey our father and get the lashing of words I do.

“Father, Harlyn isn’t...” I grasp Samuel’s hand, my head shaking. I don’t want him to be in trouble or hurt over me. He sighs and looks at his father.

“I wasn’t reprimanding you, Father. I apologise if that is how it seemed. Surely she deserves a second chance? She didn’t cause it, and it isn’t her fault.” Samuel pleads, but I know my second was burnt to ash the day my father decided he hated me.

Which was while I was still young.

“I agree with Samuel, Father; it’s the fault of the asshole who took advantage of her that night when she couldn’t respond,” Colton argues and looks between Samuel and Father.

“Exactly, and when I find him, he’s dead,” Samuel states, but I don’t want them to hurt whoever it is. I got my pups. Sure, what he did was wrong and caused many of the problems I’ve faced, but I got my pups.

I wouldn’t wish to go back and change that night for anything. I wouldn’t go back and change it if it had prevented me from being exiled, as without it, I wouldn’t have my pups.

“You two are blind. You don’t see what she is on the inside. Eventually, you will.” Father’s words are loud, “She’s not welcome in my pack or my house, so once she walks out of that door and returns to wherever she crawled out of, she is never to return.” Father shouts, and I watch him storm into the room connected to his office.

My body shakes; I can’t believe that he still blames me; he still sees me as the problem and the cause of everything. How? It wasn’t my fault.

“I’m sorry, Harlyn. We can try to resolve this for you,” Samuel says, embracing me.

“Nothing can sort this, Samuel. Don’t argue with him for me and get yourself in trouble. You have Lucy to consider. A fallout between you and Father puts her in danger.” I don’t want that. Not when it will be caused by me.

“He will come round, Father will see and change, I promise you.” Samuel looks at me, but I know he is wrong.

“Nothing will change Father’s view,” I say, still fighting back the tears. I refuse to cry in front of them, confirming that I am weak.

“The triplets will; there is no way he can disregard them. He will realise and accept his mistakes when he finally spends time around them.” Samuel says, but he’s wrong. I also don’t want him around the pups if I am not there.

“Samuel is right, Harlyn; they will wipe out his anger, I’m sure of it.” They are both fools to think that. Father likely won’t even consider going into the same room as them because they came from me.

“We will walk you to your room,” Samuel says, wrapping his arm around me to help me walk. As we near the door, Father walks back through.

“Where are you two going? We have things to plan.” Father shouts.

“Walking her back to her room, Father,” Samuel explains.

“Why? She has legs; she clearly knows how to use them, considering she opened them for...”

“Father, no!” Samuel shouts.

“Please, Father.” I plead, unwilling to listen to his tirade of abuse about what happened.

“Oh, does the leech not want to hear it? Do you not want to be reminded of that night?” He steps closer to me and pulls me away from my brothers. “I don’t need to, as you apparently have three tokens as a reminder of your slutty behaviour.” His words hit hard.

Tokens? I stare at him in shock.

“Don’t speak of them in that way.” I try to make my words sound harsh, but they appear weak.

He laughs loudly. “Oh, so you will defend the tokens and mistakes but not yourself? Get out of my face.” His words are spat at me, and I nod. As I walk to the door, Colton and Samuel grab me to help.

“Not you two. She can walk,” Father shouts, and I look at Samuel and nod.

“I’m fine.” I need them to leave me, as any moment now, I will cry. I watch as their hands reluctantly release me. I walk out, struggling to put too much weight on my foot.

As I round the corner, everything that I had held in releases, and I fall down, crippled by the pain his words caused, and my body shakes with every bit of my soul that dies from his words.

I didn’t think Father’s abusive words could worsen, but they did. I try to push everything back and fail. Standing, I stagger and almost fall.

A hand catches me, and I ready myself for more abuse from Father. Raising my head, I panic, not now, I can’t take more right now.

“Your Majesty.” My words are weak. I can’t take his abuse as well. He doesn’t reply. Instead, he wraps his arms around me, lifts me off the floor and begins to walk.

“What are you doing?” I ask. My body fights to get free from his hold.

“We need to talk Harlyn.” His eyes focus on mine, and I want to tell him no, but the idea of trying to put weight on my foot stops me.