81 A Peaceful Afternoon
Dorothy’s POV:
It was a peaceful afternoon. It was carefree and dull, and it was filled with Grandmother’s hysterical screams.
“I’ve said it before! Don’t put these disgusting weeds on my window sill!”
The furious old woman threw my herbs on my bed. She didn’t seem to see me lying on the bed reading. The sharp leaves cut my cheek.
“These are disgusting! Stinky! Strange! Evil plants! It will bring bad luck to our family! It’s all because of you, you traitorous b*stard!”
Grandmother’s chest rose and fell like an old drum. Every time I saw her like this, I was scared that she would explode in anger.
I silently gathered the herbs and whispered, “These are just ordinary hemostatic herbs, props for the elective course. My teacher has already explained it to us in detail. So there won’t be any problems.”
“Oh, really?” Grandmother sneered disdainfully and said indignantly, “The werewolf pack is finished! No one remembers how despicable witches and wizards are. Children nowadays are chasing after their toys, and even schools openly teach students how to make poison.”
“It’s just a hemostat!” I raised my voice slightly. Of course, anyone would be impatient if they were nagged 365 days a year.
Grandmother’s eyes widened in disbelief as if I had just burned her house. She said sharply, “B*stard! How dare you speak to me like that! Heartless little witch! Without me, you’d have been cooked by your heartless parents for satan’s dinner!”
“They’re not that kind of people!” I was furious. “If you didn’t forbid them from coming back to see me, do you think I want to live with you? I’ve had enough of your pugilistic tricks of ‘getting rid of filth’. They didn’t change anything other than leaving me with injuries!”
Grandmother was practically screaming, “How dare you! As expected, the filthy witch’s blood in your body has already gained the upper hand. You’re not my granddaughter at all. The devil has already bewitched you!
“Ha! The Lycan Pack actually allows a little spy like you to study in peace. The werewolves are going to be finished soon!”
I ignored Grandmother’s crazy complaints, packed up the scattered herbs, and ran out of the house.
I walked on the path in confusion. I didn’t know where I should go. The two-story building in the suburbs was just my prison. Where was my home? Where could I find a safe place?
There was no one on the quiet dirt road. Other than a few wildflowers, bees, and butterflies flying around them, there was no other living thing.
I suddenly felt that this place wasn’t that bad after all. At the very least, it was quiet and stable. There wouldn’t be any hysterical roars or boiling silver crosses.
Thus, I chose a slightly flatter patch of grass and continued to read the book that I had accidentally brought out.
“Principles of spiritual sorcery”. I found it among my mother’s belongings. Judging from the title page, the book probably belonged to my father, whom I had never met.
He was a powerful wizard who was said to be highly skilled in sorcery and secretive in his actions.
Thinking of this, I lost the mood to read.
What were Mom and Dad doing now?
I hadn’t seen my mother since I was three years old. The small photo hanging on the wall has long faded and turned yellow. Mom and Dad had never contacted me, be it a phone call, a text message, or a parchment letter that was more in line with the style of a mysterious race. It was as if they had already forgotten that they had a child.
Did Mom and Dad have a new child? Was that why they didn’t care about a dull daughter far away in the werewolf territory?
When I was a child, I often thought about it like this. Sometimes I would tell Grandmother, but she would scold me severely. If she were in a bad mood, she would take the opportunity to carry out an ‘exorcism’.
Once, she was drunk, and I learned from her mumbling that my father and I were made from the same mold. I understood then that Grandmother might not care about the so-called ‘evil’. Instead, she just wanted to get rid of me because I looked similar to my father.
Lying in the grass in a daze, I looked at the clear blue sky and suddenly thought, ‘Perhaps it was not a bad ending.’
Surrounded by flowers, grass, bees, and butterflies, a young girl slowly closed her eyes and slept under the bright sunlight forever. Wasn’t this very poetic?
As I was thinking, I suddenly heard someone call out to me from afar.
“Dorothy! Hey! Over here!”
I sat up and saw Selma running toward me.
The sun gave her a dazzling golden edge, like a divine ring in an oil painting, quietly setting off the angel’s smile.
Okay.
I thought.
Perhaps today was not a good day to leave.
One should at least talk to the friend who came to play. That was basic courtesy, right?
