Flannery buried her face into her down pillow. Though the warm spring breezes swirled through her open window to caress her cheek and beckon her to leave her bed, she refused to move. She never wanted to wake up and face the day anymore. She lived her days in anticipation of the night to come. She waited anxiously for the time when, in sleep, she could drift off into a fantasy world that contrasted immensely with the reality she was forced to live with.

BAM! BAM! BAM! An enormous fist thrust itself against her chamber door. Flannery was at no loss as to who it was.

"Yes, Stepfather?" she replied as politely as she could muster through gritted teeth.

The door creaked ominously as he entered through it. Flannery hastily pulled the covers up to her chin so that all he would be able to see was her face.

"Good morning, my darling." He said with an indulgent smile. "How many times must I tell you to call me Philippe?"

"Only every morning, Stepfather." She spat back.

Philippe then made himself free to sit down on her bed and stroke her covered legs with the hand that was nearest to her.

"I am certain your mother, may she rest in peace, would not approve of your lack of civility toward me…" He said with a shake of his head.

"On the contrary," Flannery said gravely, "I'm sure she would disapprove of your inappropriate behavior toward me." She glanced poignantly at the placement of his hand, which was now much higher up on her leg.

Flannery saw the malice in his eyes as he drew his hand away, but he did not strike.

"One day you will change your mind." He rumbled.

"No," she protested, "I'm certain I never shall. My mother was blinded by grief when she agreed to marry you. She was unable to see you for the monster that you are. However, don't think for one moment that my vision is likewise obscured."

She knew her words enraged him, but she didn't care. She braced herself for the blow that was about to come.

His right hand flew and flattened itself against her check with a hard smack. She winced, but did not cry out. She would not display any signs of weakness while he was present. However, before she could compose herself, a resounding smack was heard once more. She felt one of his massive rings cut into her left cheek.

Flannery impulsively pressed her hand to her cheek and felt the warm blood trickle through her fingers. Her eyes stayed lowered, not daring to meet his.

"That was for the dreams you undoubtedly had last night." He whispered coldly in her ear.

The swish of his cape as he left the room caused cool air to rush to her exposed wound, and the sting of this brought tears to her eyes. As soon as the door was slammed shut, which such force as to cause the entire room to quake, she let her tears fall freely. She shook silently as the sobs arrested her. No one was there to comfort her except the blood that now laced its spindly fingers through hers and grasped her hand.