Chapter Two – The abuse.

The sisters were quiet as they walked back home. It had dawned on them that their Uncle Sylvester must have sent Timothy to find them because they had stayed out late. Another four hours scolding and lecturing again. "You know this is your fault Marg" the youngest sister started. "How my fault?" Margaret retorted. "If you had listened to me and left fishing in that river. All of these wouldn't have happened" the youngest explained. Timothy's widened then he turned to Evelyn, "You and your sisters went to the prohibited river to fish! Was that how much you girls loved trouble! Wait till father hears this!" he stomped faster ahead. "Now you caused this one" Evelyn gasped. Margaret made a funny face at Lydia and Lydia returned one at her back. They continued their walk in silence again. Then came the fire. Their Uncle was always mean to them, he hated the "weakness of women", as he called it. He believed women were just for the satisfaction of men, the house cleaning and reproduction, nothing else. And of course, he was amongst those men who never educated girls because "their education is for their husband" and "a woman belongs to the kitchen". Their Uncle had a word or phrase for whatever he believed in, good or bad. He was specially always using hurtful words at them in the name of "correcting their misdeeds". Well, they've heard it for almost sixteen years so it didn't hurt as much. Their parents had died during a village war with Craitan. Many families had ran to neighboring villages and their father had sent his only three daughters to his older brother's for protection. Their parents never survived the war so their Uncle had to take them in. They were all below three then. "And I'd say it again. Soon, I'll get tired of your rubbish and send you off to die like your parents. Hear me?" Sylvester roared. He finally sat down and waved his hands to dismiss them. Lydia scurried away faster than the rest, she was going to cry in their room, she always did. Then she would start talking on running away and starting a new life away from the uncle's abuse. "I am serious, sisters. We always wanted to be soldiers, right? Let's run away to Galdrish then. Nothing remains for us here" she said. Margaret stayed calm. She agreed though. Not even marriage could stop their "misdeeds". A magnet for trouble, they three. Evelyn had run off on her wedding day to watch a tug of war by some soldiers. When the news spread, no one bothered getting married to any of the sisters. They didn't mind. Marriage was pushed to them quite earlier. Their Uncle just wanted them away. "But Galdrish is so far away" Evelyn moaned. "Yes, and who knows if we'll survive the rigorous trainings. They don't act nice to ladies. They even train them tougher" Margaret added. Lydia nodded in agreement, "But we will survive. Our mother was a warrior, you know. Our father too. We can do it if we put our all to it. There's nothing left for us anyway". Evelyn stood up to say something when a harsh knock on the door sealed her lips. Timothy appeared behind the door when she opened it. "Yes, what is it "the perfect son"?" she asked. "Well, you guys shouldn't think of running away again. Remember how the last one ended" he reminded. Lydia and Margaret glanced at each other while Evelyn looked face down. How could they forget! They were barely teenagers then. Evelyn, twelve. Margaret, eleven. Lydia, ten. Their Uncle had called them "Bastards" for the first time and they were determined to run away. It didn't work out as their Uncle's friend had seen them escaping at night. He was more hateful to women than their Uncle. "Don't want my old friend to gain money when you three are getting married, huh!" he croaked. He then locked them up with his skunks. It was horrible, their smell. Afterwards their Uncle lashed them, both with rod and tongue. They had slept for almost two days trying to gain back their strength. Would have slept for more if not Sylvester said they should get on with their daily chores. Timothy was tired of doing it for them. "Oh yes, we remember. But this time we won't get caught" Margaret said proudly. "Yes, 'for ye would know not whence the time or hour we shall escape'. We assure that" Lydia chipped in. Evelyn stayed quiet. The shadow she saw haunted her quietly. Her curiosity was rising but till her sisters stop bickering, then she can't leave to check on it. Timothy turned to her, "You are supposed to be smarter than these two. Make the right decision. I know my father isn't so nice, he's hard on me too. Even calls me bastard, forgetting I'm his son, but still you girls should just endure and avoid doing rash things" he left the room afterwards. Margaret and Lydia burst into laughing. 'He calls his own son bastard" Evelyn lips twisted. She turned to her laughing sisters and smiled at them. Timothy walked into his father's workshop. He was a furniture maker. He stumbled on a broken chair and fell, the chair broke up into two. 'You're going to pay for that" his father's voice rang besides him. Sylvester was reading a letter. 'What? Pay for what?" he sighed. His father just smiled. 'Father, I want to talk to you about something" Timothy cleaned off the dust on his clothes. His father's eyes remained glued to the letter he was reading. 'They're still your blood. Take it easy with them. Try being nicer" Sylvester recites, 'Isn't that what you'll say? Always speaking up for those wild cats!". He didn't raise his eyes from the letter. Timothy tried peeking into the letter but his father swiftly covers it. 'Let me be with those your cousins, I didn't sign up for this, I've had enough. Since they don't want to get married. I'm signing them up for the things they like doing" the old man was now biting on some chewing stick. He shows Timothy the letter whilst placing his hands on his lips indicating to keep quiet. Bewildered, Timothy screams 'What?".