The Rebel

A girl lays in her mother's lap,staring at her mother's beautiful face, marred with a big bruise around her eyes. Her tiny fingers trace the dark skin as her mother flinched under her touch. "Does it hurt...mumma?" The mother moves her head in a no, tears streaming down her eyes, saying something else. Rocking her legs by moving her lap, she urges the little girl of 7 to sleep peacefully. But how could the little soul sleep when her innocent eyes had seen such atrocity? "No, Vera... it doesn't. It will go away in a few days, my beautiful daughter." She says, placing a kiss on her forehead. Little Vera could see the sadness in her mother's eyes. She was lying. "Why don't you stop him, momma? He is wrong...he is so wrong to do this to my momma!" "Shhhhh" The lady places her finger on Vera's lips. Silencing her. "Remember Vera...Nothing is wrong or right here in this world. What your father says is always right; never question him. Okay? You have never to question them." The little girl clenches her tiny fists. Sitting up from her mother's lap, she questions back desperately. "But he is wrong, momma! He hurts you! I hate hi-" "Shhhh .....no, Vera, please! Don't hate him...he is your father. He has responsibilities as the werewolf king. You can never question his decision!" "But why, momma! Why!!" The girl pleads with tears running down her cheeks. Holding her small hands in her and kissing them, her mother answers her. "We are women, Vera. And we are taught only one thing: to live a peaceful and happy life . . . Obedience" ....................................................... The little girl was an observer; her beautiful brown eyes had lost their innocence seeing her father hurting her mother every day, but it couldn't cloud her rationality. Respect? Yes, the outside world respected her mother as the great Luna of the werewolf world. But behind the bedroom doors, her mother's respect was stripped bare as her father hurt her, marking her skin in marks that left scars to haunt and tear her. Her elder brother never interfered, saying this was how it was in their world. But her delicate heart could not believe this was their creator's will. Was her mother not the only one? Were all women treated like this? Determined to find the answers to these questions and what was right, she spent days in silence. She was not speaking a single word the entire day, preoccupied by her thoughts and observations. She was surprised to see that, sadly, most women suffered the same fate as her mother. They were harassed and tortured, some physically, others mentally. Her mother did so much for her father. She gave him food, took care of his needs, listened to his orders, and what did she get in return? Pains and sufferings. Even though she was young, she could still tell her mother's smiles were fake. She was no longer her loving mother but a broken shell from the inside, ready to break. And she did break one day. In her arms, taking her last breath as her father merely stared at her. The inhumanity of this man and all men instead, made her question if this was what they called the purest bond of all "The matebond?" He didn't shed a tear, while Vera lost all of hers. And along with the tears and cries of that 7-year-old died, the little love left for her father. "Arrange for a funeral" These were the only words left his lips as he turned his back on the mother and daughter. And that was when she had decided she wouldn't listen to even one word of what her mother had said. She will be a Rebel.