Twisted Love

Sunlight streamed into the chilly room, gently warming Cassandra's face. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open and a dull, throbbing pain greeted her. The world spun around her, and she groaned, trying to make the dizziness go away. Despite the lame attempts her headache only worsened. She tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy, and she was unable to lift herself.

It was almost as though she was trapped in her body, unable to do anything except stare at the ceiling. She thought about what might be causing her headache, but the more she thought about it, the more it hurt. Suddenly, she realized this might be the after-effect of the drugs Lance had used on her.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, the door creaked open, and her aunt Mercedes came in, her grey eyes scanning the room with suspicion. When her gaze settled on Cassandra, curled up on the bed, they narrowed with contempt.

 It was just like yesterday, Cassandra’s parents had died in a car crash on a business trip, Cassandra was merely fifteen years old, and her world was turned upside down in an instant.  After the funeral, Cassandra moved in with her uncle Niko and his family. He had two children: Lance, four years her senior, and Lena, only a few months older than her.

Since the day she’d moved in, Cassandra’s life had become hell, although Uncle Niko was her father’s elder brother, he had no regard for his niece.

“Get up, lazy brat!” Mercedes snapped, glaring down at Cassandra with contempt. “Look at the time, and you’re still in bed! Do you think we’ve hired slaves to do the work for you?”

Cassandra winced at her aunt’s harsh words, struggling to shake off the pain pounding in her head. She tried to sit up, but before she could steady herself, Mercedes grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.

“Get up and make yourself useful,” Mercedes growled, shoving Cassandra toward the door. “I need breakfast, and you’re going to make it.”

Cassandra stumbled, her head still spinning as she was pushed out of the room, hardly given a moment to recover

“Get the eggs from the fridge,” Mercedes commanded coldly, her voice dripping with disdain. “And don’t mess it up, you useless little brat.”

Cassandra simply lowered her head in obedience as she forced herself to follow the instructions her aunt barked at her, she grabbed the eggs and tried to crack them without making a mess, the pain in her head wasn’t even helping. The pain intensified, making her feel sick and dizzy, she tried to ignore it, but the bile rising to her throat made it almost impossible.

Mercedes noticed Cassandra’s discomfort and sneered. “What’s wrong with you?” she spat, her voice was angry. “Can’t handle a little bit of work?”

Cassandra ignored her aunt, even if she spoke, it would only make things worse, her aunt would assume she was only pretending and trying to be lazy and when she made the eggs, Mercedes came forward to scrutinize it.

“Good,” she finally said after seconds of inspecting, her tone still laced with contempt. “Now go set the table.”

  By now everyone had started coming out of their rooms, ready to gather at the dining hall for breakfast. Cassandra moved toward the table, her shaky hands struggling as she placed mats and arranged the bowls. Uncle Niko entered, his gaze immediately landing on her with a disapproving frown.

Meanwhile, Lena, Cassandra’s cousin,  let out a dramatic yawn as she approached the table, a childish pout forming on her lips. “Ugh… my head hurts from studying too much last night,” she complained. Uncle Niko’s expression softened, and he smiled at his daughter, he doted very much on her.

“College must be so hard. I don’t want them pushing my princess too much,” he murmured, patting her head with pride.

Cassandra watched in silence, a flicker of envy in her chest. She wasn’t allowed to go to college. Her uncle had told her that they couldn’t afford it, not with Lena’s tuition. She was reminded often that she was now an adult, expected to marry quickly and move out, a duty rather than a daughter. Pushing down her bitterness, she turned away from the dining and returned to the kitchen, her mind drifting back to the ache in her head and her uncertain future.

Cassandra stumbled, her vision blurring as she nearly knocked over a glass. Mercedes caught it before it fell, glaring at Cassandra with disgust.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded. “Can’t you do anything right?”

“Good morning, Mom.” Cassandra froze from fear, the voice belonged to Lance, and he was in the kitchen, her nerves tightening.

“Oh, Lance! Go wait at the table; we’ll bring your meal now,” Mercedes replied, her voice softening, a wrinkly smile crossing her face.

“No, that’s not necessary,” he replied, stepping further into the kitchen. Cassandra’s hands began to shake. “You go on, and I’ll help Cassandra finish up here.”

Mercedes hesitated, then scoffed. “The girl’s getting lazy. She won’t get anything done right if I’m not watching her every move.” She shot Cassandra a look of disdain. “But fine, if you insist.”

Lance nodded, his voice even as he reassured her, “Don’t worry, Mom. Just head to the table.”

With a final glare at Cassandra, Mercedes removed her apron and left, throwing over her shoulder, “You better hurry up; the rest of us have places to be.”

Mercedes left the kitchen, leaving Cassandra alone with Lance.

 As soon as the door close, she felt Lance hands crawl up on her breasts and a shaky breath escaped her, as he pressed his body into hers, he rested his head on the crone of her neck inhaling her scent deeply.

  “Good morning, Cassie, I had dreams about you.” He said trailing small kisses against her neck, while his hands held her face in place.

Lance drew back in surprise, when he touched the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

 “You’re crying?” he sounded surprised. “All those shameless moans from last night and you’re crying now?” he laughs softly, revealing pebble white teeth.

“P-please stop.” She whispered pushing him away lightly, in response to her defiance he grabbed her hair pulling it back softly, and she bit down on her lips, trying to suppress the whimper.

  “Are you refusing me?” she shook her head hurriedly. 

“Then what?” he queries even further.

   “T-tomorrow? Let’s d-do this t-tomorrow.” She whispered her bargain. “I feel sick.”

  “You did a good job last night so I’ll reward you.” He pulls some of the strands away from her face and pecks her. “I love you.”