Marigold POV

I was walking home from a long day of working in the shoe shop. My arms ached, my legs felt tired to the bone, and my entire body was sore. I turned a corner and heard the all too familiar voices of the Vultures. That's what I called them at least.

They started taunting me again. Or better said, just one person. She was practically the bane of my entire existence. Just like every other day. I usually keep my cool, but not this time. This time, the words hurt more. They cut deeper, and it was because it was true. All of it.

Today was the anniversary of her disappearance. I refused to believe that she was dead. Refused to move on. Refused to accept the truth. And they were using it to most of their advantage.

"Ha! I wonder how many brain cells that woman had before she died! " A girl said, a girl who went by the name Violet. She kicked the little bit of money that I had managed to make into the ground. She ground the few coins into the dirt with a sickly sweet smile. As though saying, "Oops, sorry. Not! "

She was as pretty as she was a bully. She was beautiful and perfect in every way. She had flawless porcelain skin, an elegantly sculpted face, exotic violet eyes, and silky black hair that fell in an ebony waterfall down her thin but pretty figure.

I bet down to pick them up, they would buy this week's dinner after all when her sharp black high heels kicked me in the ribs. I fell and swallowed an insult concerning her weight that I knew she was insecure about. I clenched my teeth and picked up the money. Putting them in my hand securely before trying to get back up despite the pain in my side and despite the warm trickle of blood.

Her gang suddenly surrounded me and I felt fear course through me. They started to kick and punch me, while I curled into a ball to protect myself. I whimpered in pain, but that only made them laugh even more. A foot connected with my jaw, making my head snap back. I felt tears of pain and fury burn in my eyes.

My tears mixed with my blood, matting my hair and staining my clothes. "I'll never get those stains out now," I thought, half delirious with pain. But searing hatred pierced the haze of pain I was in.

I hated her. All I have ever wanted to do was punch her in her perfect face. I wanted her to feel the anguish I felt whenever she opened her mouth to talk about my mother. Thoughts as dark as a starless night crowded my mind, taunting me with its sticky tendrils of hate.

The thoughts that told me to punch her. To kick her. To break her perfect nose. To get my fists bloody from pummeling her. I didn't like these thoughts, but they came unbidden whenever I saw her. What made matters worse, was that I knew that I couldn't do any of that to her.

She picked on anyone and everyone who she was jealous of. And she just happened to be jealous of me. Why she was jealous, I wasn't sure. There was nothing to be jealous of, after all. My mother had gone missing, my father hated me, I had no friends, I only had my siblings. And I didn't even get to see them often.

While she had everything. She had dozens of friends by her side, her family was rich. She had parents that give two flying fucks about her. She got everything she wanted, the moment she wanted. She was the daughter of the Lord of the land. And that was why I couldn't punch her.

She would run to her daddy and then he would fire my father and me. Times were hard enough, with business being as slow as a snail. There was a drought, hunting was slow, trade was nonexistent, and right now, my father and I were the two moneymakers in the family. I couldn't afford to get us fired.

As much as I hated my father, and as much as he hated me, I couldn't do that to him. Or me. It would hurt the only people that I cared about. My siblings.

Also, Mother had loved him. Though I couldn't fathom why. He drank too much, went out too much, didn't give a shit about us, and he hadn't been completely sober since Mother died. That was eight years ago. Something else happened eight years ago.

When I found out about her disappearance, I felt strange darkness in me. I was suddenly more aggressive. I was less happy, I didn't run and play like I used to. I was more prone to getting into fistfights, and my temper was shorter than a twig. And just as thin. I was snapped out of my dark morbid thoughts by another nasal voice calling after me.

"None! If she went in there she used to be as stupid as her daughter. I hear Marigold still thinks that her mommy is alive!" One of her gang crowed. She was called Rose. A pretty name for an ugly-hearted girl. She didn't question anything, she just did whatever she was told. She adored Violet. She was her most devoted follower.

Her last two brain cells must have been working hard to make a full sentence. I thought venomously.

Curling up even more, in vain it seemed, to protect me against their merciless hits. My eyes darted around briefly to see if anyone was seeing. Of course, I thought upon seeing every adult in sight turning a blind eye. No, just go ahead and ignore me, it's fine. I'm fine. As long as it doesn't concern you everything is sunshine and rainbows isn't it?

I took deep and slow breaths to calm myself, but I couldn't help the rush of untamable fury that coursed through me. No one cared that I was being harassed and beaten. Mother would want me to stay calm. So I will. For her. Not for these pathetic excuses for human beings. I continued to suffer in silent pain while they beat the living shit out of me. But then they crossed the line.

"Well, it's not as if anyone misses her. She was so stupid that she thought she could survive Nevermore. She thought that "It isn't so bad!" and she was, "Going to show us all wrong." Ha! As if."

My blood boiled and I saw red. My breathing became uneven and my nails cut into the palms of my hands, almost drawing blood. I growled in a deadly calm voice, the calm before a hurricane, "What. Did you say?"

Violet didn't get the hint. She started talking while still kicking me with her expensive heels. Those heels probably cost more than a house here. She spoke as though explaining something to a child, "Oh, do you want me to spell it out for you? Your filthy bitch of a mother was S-T-U-P-I-D to think she could survive Nevermore. Well, I'm pretty sure we all know who's right now. What with her being dead and all. Well, I can always gloat over her grave."

I snapped.

One second I was curled in a ball on the ground, protecting my stomach and chest. The next I was up on my feet. I saw and heard the satisfying crack of Violet's perfect nose breaking. I saw blood gush out and felt a dark satisfaction.

I saw her step back with terror in her eyes as she saw the murder in my own. She said weakly, "My father will hear about this," as though it could somehow stop what I was about to do. She turned and ran sensing that things were going to get bloody if she didn't. She was as graceful as a fleeing doe. I gave chase, as relentless as a hunting wolf. I heard a girl behind me shriek, "Marigold has gone mad! She's going to kill Violet! Someone help!"

She fled into the fields, and I loped behind her. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, my breathing ragged and my blood still boiling, providing me with strength. I only had eyes for her, and I couldn't tell if the red rimming my vision was in my head, or if it was my blood.

My bruises suddenly didn't matter. The blood that was all over me was my own and the pain faded. Giving way to hatred so dark, I didn't know if I was capable of feeling anything else.

I saw her up ahead and grabbed her, making her choke. She gave a short shriek of surprise and fear. I punched her.

My lips twisted in a sick imitation of a smile and continued pummeling her, my fists growing bloodier each time I drew them back. Sounds faded away and all I could think about was making her pay.

She hurt me.

My fist connected with her cheek again for the fifth time.

She doesn't deserve my mercy.

Blood rushed from the ever-growing wound.

She was disrespecting my mother.

I was furious beyond reason.

She deserves this.

I bared my teeth and continued. I was crazed with resentment that had been left to fester for years. This wasn't a simple rivalry, for me, this was personal. For revenge. 

I was out for blood.

And I would do anything to get it. My anger was almost sadistic, and I was scared of myself of how deep my resentment went. But I didn't stop.

Couldn't stop. So I didn't.

These thoughts whirled in my head as more blood gushed forth from her pale skin. But I knew I was holding back. My punches were weaker than I wanted. Somewhere deep inside me, a voice was telling me to stop. My hits were weak. And her skin was only just broken.

I also knew that this might have something to do with the fact that I was getting beaten up only minutes before. Despite all of this, and how little I was hitting her, she was screaming in pain and fear. She was crying, her tears mixing with her blood. Her blood matting her hair and expensive clothes.

"How does it feel Violet?" My voice barely my own. I got up and kicked her as hard as she had done to me.

"Good, doesn't it?" I snarled.

"NO, it hurts! Please stop!" She sobbed, choking on her tears and blood. As I had done not minutes ago. I felt no desire to grant her mercy. There was no room for mercy in my now black heart. I didn't stop until I heard thundering footsteps, and I stopped. But I kept on taunting her until I was pulled back by a pair of strong hands. I thrashed and kicked.

"LET GO OF ME!" I screamed, my voice still crazed with fury. I heard a grunt as I managed to hit a weak spot. I kicked that spot again. Then, a voice roared in my ear, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY DAUGHTER?"

I instantly stopped thrashing and looked at my "attacker." I widened my eyes and shrank beneath the pair of impossibly cold icy blue eyes.

All fight drained out of me, dripping off of me and onto the rust-colored dust like blood.

I distinctly heard a chilling laugh. A laugh that resonated in my bones, and it was triumphant. As though by beating Violet up, I had just done something to make it happy. Everyone present looked around nervously. I shrank back in terror.

I didn't know who or what had made that terrible sound, but I knew that it was worse than I could ever imagine. I shifted nervously in the man's grip. There was something off. Then I realized, everything was silent.

The birds didn't sing, the wind didn't howl, the rows of wheat didn't make a single sound, yet they rippled like water. The sun lost its heat, the clouds have lost their glow, and the sky became as dull as a stone. I felt a chilling breeze, but no sound was made. Just that horrible cackle came again, and it echoed, as though bouncing off of surfaces that weren't there.

Then, in an instant, everything came back to life, the birds sang once again, the wind whispered as it weaved through the stalks of wheat, and the sun regained its usual warmth. I sighed in relief before realizing who had me dangling like a rabbit in front of them.

It was the Lord of the land. His name didn't always match his demeanor. But now it certainly did. His name was Crow.

He had skin as pale as his daughter's, golden hair, and pitch-black eyes. He might have been handsome, had it not been for his potbelly, his shorter-than-average height, or the perpetual scowl. There was a cruel and calculating look in his eyes that made him seem scarier. As though he was pondering whether or not to destroy your world with a single word.

He let me go to go check on his precious daughter. I fell to the ground with a dull thud, aggravating my already open wounds. I felt sick and dizzy. I had just angered the man that could destroy my entire family. I suddenly felt less aggressive. That laugh echoed again, rippling in the grass, coming from the sky, the earth, carried by the wind.

This time, no one but I heard it. I looked around and saw that Crow hadn't come alone. He brought his guards and some of the villagers tagged along. They were looking at me with disgust in their gazes. They whispered among each other, as though I couldn't see or hear them.

When he looked up, his face was red with anger and his mustache trembled. Under other circumstances, I would have barked a laugh. I would laugh right now too, had I not known just how much power he holds in his pudgy hands.

"You. In the office, now!" He was so furious he couldn't even form a complete sentence. He was visibly shaking from sheer rage. I was cowering on the floor, my eyes as wide as they could go, and then some.

I nodded vehemently, .

He walked away at a fast pace with his blubbering daughter in his arms. She looked back once and shot me a triumphant grin. I stood up and tried to run and punch her. But immediately wished that I hadn't. Violet's heel had torn a jagged hole in my side, between my ribs. Speaking of my ribs, they felt fractured. I poked them gingerly, and I knew that one was broken. It felt as though hot needles were being stung there.

My back was burning, and I knew that it was probably a bloody mess. My glasses were miraculously intact. There were bloodied, and the frame looked as though it was going to fall apart any given second. But they were intact. I could see through them, so I considered them still usable.

I ran to catch up, and every muscle in my body screamed at me to stop. But I didn't stop. I had already screwed everything up, I didn't want something else for Crow to get at.