Self-Claimed
His conscience mocked and reasoned, which surely he can't deny.
Alisha's heart pounded against her rib cage as she heard his words.
She doesn't know why she's stuttering, but it's just fear making it hard for her to form words correctly.
She's too scared to do it, without even knowing herself, giving her a reality check.
"Angel, I asked you something, sweetheart. You better not stutter in front of me. I don't like it. Your sweet voice is meant to be heard, and I can't hear it like this," Alice spoke as he took the brush and began brushing her hair.
Her hair was now dry, so he started detangling it after putting down the dryer.
"I can brush my own hair," Alisha tried to stop him, doing her best not to stutter.
She's not a pro at stuttering, so Alice's warning is enough to set her straight.
She knows a few things she shouldn't do in front of him:
- Don't make him angry.
- Don't ignore his warnings.
- Don't act like you can defy him.
She's learned to keep these three in her head when dealing with him.
"I asked what you can do, or whatnot?" Alice kept brushing her soft hair, smirking, fully aware of the power he held over her.
He can see how cautious she is in front of him, though he prefers the carefree Alisha, he still enjoys this version too because she's not upsetting him more; he's happy she's trying to obey him.
Alisha's cheeks turned red with embarrassment at his words.
Who even brushes someone else's hair?
He seems to have different hobbies: carrying, bathing, and now brushing her hair.
Even when she was a kid, she never depend on anyone this much.
As childhood memories rushed into her head, her face turned sad again, and her mood soured.
Alice noticed her sudden sadness, confusing him, making him wonder why she suddenly became like this.
"Alisha, why are you so sad? What happened?" Alice questioned as he scanned her face.
Alisha looked up and saw his eyes studying her intensely.
The intensity in his eyes as he watched her sent shivers down her spine without her knowing it.
Maybe she'd gotten used to the nicknames he threw at her here and there, but him suddenly calling her name felt weird.
"I'm thinking about Mother Mary," Alisha truthfully stated because she didn't know what else to say.
There was no lie she wanted to tell.
"Didn’t I tell you to forget about that woman? She's nothing to you now. She discarded you like trash, and you're still thinking about her?" Alice swivelled the chair in his direction, crouching down to her level, holding her chin, making her look into his eyes, eye to eye.
Alisha felt a mix of emotions swirling within her as Alice's words pierced through her thoughts. His firm grip on her chin forced her to meet his gaze, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability under his intense gaze.
"She's still my mother," Alisha murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes flickering with pain and fear.
Alice's expression softened slightly at her response, but the sternness in his eyes remained. "She may have been your mother, but she abandoned you. You have me now, Alisha. You don't need anyone else," he said firmly, his voice tinged with possessiveness.
Alisha's heart sank at his words.
As Alice continued to gaze at her expectantly, Alisha felt a tear welling up in her eye.
“I am not saying anything to you about your mom, so you don't have to treat like you know my brother best, you don't,” Alisha's eyes filled with tears.
She couldn't imagine how he was so nonchalant about this whole thing when he was the reason for her pain and suffering, the reason she was thrown away like trash.
He was the reason she had no one, only him.
She didn't even want him; she'd rather stay alone than have someone like him who would just cause her pain, who would act like he wasn't the person who pushed her away.
“You can't say anything about my mom, because you can see how my mom treats you. She treats you way better than your so-called Mother Mary,” Alice taunted, his nails digging into her chin.
Alisha winced at the sharp pressure of Alice's nails against her skin, but she refused to let him see her pain. Swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill, she summoned what little strength she had left.
"You have no right to speak about my mother that way," Alisha retorted, her voice trembling slightly but filled with conviction. "You don't know anything about her or the love she has for me. And I won't let you belittle her memory."
Alice's grip on her chin tightened, his eyes narrowing into slits as he regarded her with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "How dare you speak to me like that?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You forget your place, Alisha. I am the one who takes care of you, who provides for you. You belong to me."
But Alisha refused to back down. She refused to let him control her, to dictate how she felt or what she believed. In that moment, she found a strength she never knew she had, a fire burning within her that refused to be extinguished.
"No, Alice," she said, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins. “You are not feeding me or providing for me because I want it, you are doing it all forcefully.”
“Seems like you have a lot of guts, sweetheart. What happened to these guts when you were with me inside the bathtub? What happened to these guts when you were begging to your so-called Mother Mary, and she still pushed you?” Alice's words cut through the air, his anger palpable.
Alisha didn't know how to retort. She had begged, even willing to plead to Mary, unable to comprehend being pushed away by the person she thought was her one and only family.
He claims to be my family, yet he's the source of all my pain! Alisha wondered in her head.
"Do you realise how much your words hurt me? Do you honestly believe this behaviour will make me accept you as my husband?”
