Sofia's Curse

The Soldier

"You betrayed me!" Leeroy sends a slap across Sophia's face. It echoes through the vast white marble foyer.

Sophia's face runs to the right, but she simply faces him again. "I didn't," she says in a plain voice, resembling a soldier.

"Don't lie to me!" he screams and slaps her again. This time even harder.

Sophia, without shedding a tear or a gasp of pain, returns her face back to him. "It must've been a mistake," she replies calmly. Her behavior is admirable. She stands poised and tall in all her extravagant beauty, as if she was getting a pedicure, not being physically abused. She is a trained soldier. But who knows what she feels on the inside?

Leeroy's eyes are a vicious pierce. "A mistake," he whispers in disbelief. His words a cutting blade, "Mistake?" his face contorts and, in a swift movement, he removes the belt from his pants and folds it.

Sophia's eyes never leave his. She knows what he is going to do, but she doesn't even attempt to flee. Instead, she lifts her chin up, proud, waiting for sharp pain to come.

And it does. Leeroy gracefully whips his belt and it cuts her across the face. When it does, she doesn't even flinch. She doesn't let a sound. It looks like they've done this before.

"Turn around," he says in a low steady voice.

Sophia listens immediately. She isn't defiant. She is obedient. Bold, but obedient. She wants to be punished. She knows she deserves it.

"How many times did I tell you?" he yells, sending his belt across her back. She contorts her face out of the unbearable pain and tastes blood in her mouth. It is dripping from an open wound on her arcade.

"I'd never take their side. You are my family," she says flatly.

Leeroy lets a scream of anger and sends the belt across her back once more. The pain is unbearable, but Sophie tries not to move. "Liar! You know they don't have powers! You know it!"

Sophia nods, without turning. "If I did anything to help them, it wasn't out of my free will," she says and the belt sends pain through her body once more. "I swear, dad! I didn't do it!"

He stops for a second. Sophia doesn't turn. She knows he is not done yet.

Then he whispers, "I don't understand why you are lying to me, Scarlett. I don't understand..."

Sophia flinches to his words. He never calls her Scarlett. This will hurt. She knows it. And she is right. Suddenly, a sharp pang of pain screams from her back. Her shirt is cut open and she can sense the blood coming out of her shoulder blades. He must have taken a whip. She crumbles to the ground and, as she falls, she hugs her knees. Not because she needs comfort, but because she wants to protect the front part of her body. She hates the scars she wears on her back, but at least she doesn't need to look at them. She can pretend they are not there. They don't remind her of her misdemeanors every time she looks in the mirror.

Besides, if she got scars in the front part of her body, Ian would notice them. He would know she was hurt recently. And who gave them to her. She can't let him know Leeroy is evil and violent. He might tell it to somebody or inform the police. Things would get unnecessarily complicated. For her own sake, she needs to protect his new identity.

#

It takes fifteen minutes before Victoria and Christopher slow down.

The feeling one gets once physically attacked is peculiar. It always leaves deep scars. Not necessarily physical ones. These may or may not occur. But, inevitably, mental ones. Always.

Threatening words can cause caution in the behavior of the threatened one, cruel actions implant fear in receiver's bones, but cruel actions without prior threats instill paranoia in the victims.

"It's okay, Vic," Chris stops and rests his hands on his thighs, panting. "We're good, they're not following us," he says and wipes the sweat above his upper lip off. "You can stop now."

Victoria ceases running, but keeps maniacally scanning their surroundings. She swallows hard and her throat hurts from the dryness. "We shouldn't, Chris. We should keep moving," she whispers, her hands trembling.

Chris looks up at her. He frowns seeing she's shaking. He straightens up and approaches her. "Vic," he softly says, concern evident in his voice, "Nobody's behind us. I swear."

Victoria shakes her head, "No... We...we should go home! Yasmine... Mom's alone in the house, Chris," she cries out, "We need to go, we need to-"

"Hey," Chris interrupts her, gently rubbing her shoulders. "We'll go, okay? We'll go, just..." he twists his lips in concern, "let's walk. What do you say?"

Her eyes fly from one spot to the other, never resting at the same place for more than a second. She keeps silent.

"Mom's fine," Chris says taking her hand and leading her gently down the street. "They don't know where we live, Vic." He frowns, brooding about something.

Victoria walks impassively beside him, and answers his unspoken question. "It was them," she stammers gazing into the distance. "They moved your car..."

"They didn't," he retorts assertively. "They couldn't have seen me park. I parked it one block away."

Victoria sniffs. "Are you kidding me?" She shoots him with her gaze. "Haven't you witnessed that?" She's shivering with fear. "They're not human, Chris," she whispers, afraid that if she said it any louder, they'd materialize in front of them. "They saw us coming. They wanted us to come!"

He doesn't reply. Is it possible that they were expecting them? It certainly appeared so. But how did they know? Why would they want them dead? He and his sister are regular teenagers with no enemies under their belt. Then it hits him.

"Vic," he mutters, stopping abruptly. "Mom!"

"What?" she looks around, "Where?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Mom has something to do with this. She has the answers!"

Victoria's forehead creases. "What are you blabbering about? Mom? Yasmine Jenkins? The wannabe-magician?" And as she says those words, she believes Chris. Yasmine has always been a mysterious woman. Her job description is, at the very least, uncommon. She has always kept their past away from them. She's never told them about their lives before they met her. Maybe she doesn't know? Or she doesn't want to tell them?

"Chris... Do you know what you're saying?"

He hesitantly nods. "We got to tell her."

"I don't know..." she licks her lips, "I... I don't think we should drag her into this. She never asked for any of this... I wish I didn't know..." Tears amass in her eyes.

"Vic...if there's one person who won't be surprised by the fact that magic does exist...it's Mom. And you know it."

Deep down, Victoria doesn't want to believe it. Deep down, she wants to protect Yasmine. But on the surface, it all makes sense. She has always claimed she had powers. And if she does, she might be able to protect them. Can she?

She gives him a small nod, barely noticeable, and they resume walking in silence.