Page 5 of The Queen's Serpent

As I lean my head back and close my eyes tightly, a memory accosts me, so vivid that I’m almost positive that my grandmother is here in this hole with me, her perfume making its way through my nose, and her presence causing my stomach to tighten painfully with anxiety.

Two little girls stand before a beautiful, regal woman with a mixture of dark tresses with threads of silver through her thick length. Her icy blue eyes narrow down on each of them, her face serious and stern, unwavering in her visible disappointment.

I watch as she purses her lips while she takes stock of the other dark-haired girl next to a younger version of me; my new sister, Mia. I want to step in front of her to protect her from our grandmother, but my knees shake, and my hands sweat. I can’t bring myself to take the one little step needed. I can’t even bring myself to speak. My tongue feels swollen and numb inside my mouth. Weakling, my mind provides the word that causes me further distress.

“What have you two done?” She questions with coldness in her tone. I love my grandmother, but I’m terrified of her most of the time. My grandfather Jaxon calls her his ‘Little Viper’ and swears that she has venom in her bite. Right now, looking at her, I totally believe him. I wish he were here with us; Grandmother isn’t so harsh when he’s around. Besides, I’m his little doll, and he would protect me.

“Nooothinng…” my sister replies, her voice shaking but filled with defiance.

“Lies! You dare lie to me? Your grandmother?” My grandmother’s tone drops another degree, and I feel my whole body starting to tremble.

“Isabella, what have you two done? Confess, child.”

I squeeze my lips closed tightly, refusing to look up into her eyes and utter a word. She already knows what we have done; otherwise, she wouldn’t be asking, and we wouldn’t be standing here in her presence. I knew we shouldn’t have done it. I told Mia that we needed to forget about it, but did she listen? No, of course she didn’t, she’s fearless.

“There will be punishments if you do not confess to your actions. Come clean, and I may reconsider donating all your precious electronics to charity, Mia.” She turns her glare back in my direction, and a lump forms in my throat. “Isabella, would you like to lose your horse, Buttercup?”

Lose Buttercup? No! Oh my God, no, she can’t take him away. He’s the only thing that makes me feel alive and happy. He is the only thing that brings me a sense of calmness in the terrifying world that I live in. Buttercup is the only thing that doesn’t scare me. When I’m riding him across the large fields, I’m no longer Isabella Stratford, some Manhattan princess. I’m free. A fairy riding through the wind that cannot be tamed. One who fears nothing and no one. I can’t lose him.

“Don’t do it, Issy. Be strong!” Mia whisper-shouts at me.

“What’s it going to be, girls? Are you going to confess, or stick together and lie?” Grandmother Stella taps the toe of her pointy black shoe in a sign of impatience. I can’t lose Buttercup, though. I can’t go a day without seeing him, and I know she’s not bluffing. She will give him away. She can be so mean, like one of those evil queens from the fairytales I used to love.

Tears slide down my cheeks, meeting my chin and finding their final destination in the front of my shirt. My hands clench at my sides, as I finally lift my eyes to meet my grandmother’s cold glare, her jaw stiff and eyebrow raised in anticipation of my weakness. “We… we… ummm… we glued the door shut…”

“Issy! NO!” My sister screams, but it’s no use. I’m not strong like her; I’m weak. I cave under pressure.

“Go on, child,” my grandmother urges, with a further hint of disappointment in her voice.

I rub the back of my hand across my running nose, and stare into the coldest pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Her beautiful face is filled with disappointment as she stares down at me.

“We glued the bathroom door shut and then pulled the fire alarm, after stealing all of Bethany’s things, and making sure there was no toilet paper. Mia… had poured… lax… laxatives into her milk at lunch.”

A hiccup leaves my lips and causes further mortification as I side-eye my sister, who is glaring at me. “Why did you do that to Bethany?” Grandmother Stella questions.

“Issy, stop,” Mia demands without any fear. She’s constantly in trouble with our grandmother.

She fears nothing and no one. If it wasn’t for her, there is no way I would have done what I did today. I wouldn’t have had the courage. Most days, I wish I was more like her. The fact that she’s adopted but has more of the Stratford spirit than I do, the one born into this family, hasn’t escaped me.

“She was… bull… bullying me and call… calling me names. She put… put garbage into my locker and threw dirty… mmm… underwear at me in the lunchroom, and everyone laughed and started… call… calling me names.” I swallow the lump in my throat as my face heats, having to confess to my fearless grandmother what my peers are doing to me, how everyone in that school hates me and enjoys torturing me.

“What were they calling you, Isabella?”

I can’t bring myself to utter the words, the horrible names. The humiliation and shame are too intense, and if I had my way, I would crawl into a hole and just die right now. I would never step foot into that school or see any of those girls again. I shake my head no and lower my eyes to the ground, as my whole body is wracked with ugly, loud sobs.

A frustrated groan leaves Mia’s lips, and she pulls me by the arm behind her small body. She straightens her shoulders and faces my grandmother, while I sob behind her, taking the easy way out and letting her once again protect me. I’m a coward, and I always have been and always will be.

“They were calling her a dirty cunt. I managed to bust a couple of faces from uttering those disgusting words. I came up with the plan, grandmother. If you want to punish someone, punish me and leave Issy out of it. I wanted revenge; no one gets to hurt her.” Mia shakes with rage, her small fists tight in front of me, as I peek from below my lashes at her.

A deep sigh escapes my grandmother. “Well done, Mia. No one is allowed to hurt either of you. You are Stratfords, girls. We are not afraid of anyone or anything. You should have done more to her. I would have set the bathroom on fire with her in it.”

My grandmother huffs with agitation, and I watch as she clenches her fists tightly. My eyes open wide, and my jaw drops at her statement. I see a devious smirk crossing my sister’s face at my grandmother’s words. She really shouldn’t be encouraging Mia to create more mayhem; she’s perfectly capable of doing that all on her own.

“As for you, Isabella, Stratfords stick together, granddaughter. We don’t ever rat each other out. You need to learn to be stronger, child. This world is a horrific place, and if you don’t toughen up and become more like your sister, you will always be hiding from the bullies. Weakness is not in our Stratford blood, Isabella.”

Stella reaches out and trails a red-tipped finger down my sister’s face in tenderness, a tenderness that she doesn’t usually show me. It pains me to watch, because I know I crave that touch and look on her face. How I would just like her to look at me once the same way she looks at Mia.

“It looks like I will have to go destroy Bethany’s future, as well as her parents’ legacy. How dare she have the audacity to come after a Stratford!”

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