❀ Aster Vermilion | D9 | WIP ❀

You ain't nothing but a waste of space, kid! The youth's faded cornflower irises glittered with liquid emotion as the words bit at her. The tears were bitter, crawling downwards across the twisted ridges of her cheeks. The disfigurement curled below her sunken eyes, curving skyward to her right temple. The girl's thin pale lips parted to respond, but little more than a whimper emerged. Once her hateful father left her, the delicate legs beneath her crumpled to the ground. The shattered glass of a floor-bound mirror cut into the flesh, freeing burning scarlet from inside the ashen shell. In her sadness, Aster could not see the petty figure staring at her from the ground. Hair red like muted rust, built like the hungry child she was.

You know he doesn't mean what he says. Her brother's warm hands cupped naturally around her oval face. Her petite nose wriggled after a sniff. In the heartfelt relief the boy brought, the child allowed a pure smile to illuminate her minimal features. Sitting together, the siblings exchanged conversations in naturally hushed tones. The eldest sat behind, un-knotting his sister's hair. Carefully twisting it upwards, he curled her hair into a tarnished bun, securing it with a scrap of his plaid shirt. He encased her frail hand in his own and offered her shelter in his embrace.

Why d'you have to be such a push-over? Stand up for yourself. The words echoed through Aster as they had so many times before. She never had any intention of defending herself - she didn't seem physically capable of it. The shell of a girl never had. As she had for years before, she let her abusers continue to taunt her with words that would claw at her mind for weeks. Scar-face. Crazy-case. Psychopath.

She twirled the stalk of the cornflower between her fingers, gazing at its beauty with an innocent curiosity. She fondled its glowing blue petals, blinking at the satin under her fingertips.