Chapter 13

Max's POV

Priscilla began to eat her meal in silence, her actions speaking louder than words. As I observed her, I couldn't help but notice the piercing glares she directed toward me. It was evident that this girl harbored a deep-seated hatred towards me, but I knew that my actions were driven by a genuine concern for her well-being.

"Priscilla, you should consider letting your mother go," I gently suggested, causing her to raise her head and fix me with a cold, intense stare. The intensity of her gaze only served to reinforce the animosity she held toward me. Nevertheless, I remained resolute in my belief that my intentions were for her good.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice laced with a chilly tone.

Clearing my throat, I carefully chose my words, "I believe it would be beneficial for her soul to find peace, whether through a proper burial or by scattering her ashes in the sea."

Her response was measured, "I haven't given it much thought, but I will certainly do something to honor her memory."

Curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn't help but inquire further, "Why do you carry such anger within you? It's not healthy for a young woman as beautiful as you to be consumed by such bitterness. You must know that it will only drive potential suitors away."

A defiant retort escaped her lips, "I don't mind if I appear unattractive. I have no desire for any man to lay eyes on me, so it's perfectly fine if they all choose to run in the opposite direction."

My curiosity persisted, and I ventured to ask, "But don't you ever envision a future where you might marry or have children?"

As I posed the question, my face betrayed a genuine curiosity, eager to understand her perspective.

"I don't want to get married, nor do I want to have kids. I'm better off alone," Priscilla declared, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation. As her words hung in the air, I couldn't help but feel a pang of unease.

"Why? Falling in love is a beautiful feeling," I countered, hoping to sway her perspective. However, she scoffed dismissively, her eyes filled with a mixture of skepticism and pain.

"You think you fall in love once, right? Well, let me ask you this," she paused, her gaze piercing into my soul. "Are you truly happy right now?" The lump in my throat grew, making it difficult to respond. I swallowed hard, searching for the right words.

"You're right, love can bring pain and betrayal," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But what if that was just my bad luck? Or perhaps, I haven't found someone who is truly meant for me. What if you could find true love that doesn't bring you pain?" I offered, desperately hoping to ignite a glimmer of hope within her.

Priscilla scoffed once again, her disbelief evident in her eyes. "Why don't you find that love first? When you find it, then maybe I can start considering the possibility," she retorted, her words laced with a touch of bitterness. I stared at her in disbelief, struggling to comprehend her unwavering stance.

"Have you ever fallen in love?" I inquired, my curiosity getting the better of me. Priscilla paused, her gaze momentarily distant.

"No," she replied, her voice tinged with a mix of defiance and apprehension. "And I don't want to." With that, she nonchalantly picked up a piece of food, using her hand to bring it to her mouth, as if to emphasize her independence and self-reliance.

"Alright, I'm curious. What's your stance on having children?" I inquired, genuinely interested in her perspective.

She pondered for a moment, her eyes searching for the right words. "A child is often seen as a symbol of love between two individuals, isn't it? But what if I don't desire to fall in love with anyone? Where does that leave me in terms of having a child?" This girl, Priscilla, was an enigma. Her demeanor oscillated between childlike innocence and profound wisdom, leaving me at a loss for words.

I offered a suggestion, hoping to shed some light on the matter. "Well, there are alternative options to consider, such as sperm donation or even surrogacy. With the advancements in technology, the possibilities of having a child have expanded significantly."

Priscilla remained resolute in her decision. "I simply do not wish to have children, and that's the end of it," she stated firmly. Then, she turned the tables on me, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Do you have any children? Is it something you aspire to have?"

A smile crept across my face as I envisioned the joys of parenthood. "Absolutely! I long to have children of my own. There's something undeniably endearing and captivating about their innocence and charm. I envision having a little boy and girl, each with their unique personalities," I confessed, only to be met with a dismissive eye roll from Priscilla.

Curiosity piqued, Priscilla probed further. "May I ask how old you are?" she inquired, her tone laced with intrigue.

I furrowed my brow, slightly taken aback by the question. "I'm currently 25 years old," I replied, wondering where this line of questioning was leading.

Priscilla's response was filled with a hint of optimism. "Well, you're still quite young. There's always the possibility of finding love again, getting married, and starting a family. You have plenty of time to fulfill your desire to have children," she suggested nonchalantly, returning her attention to her meal.

"Wouldn't you want to be the mother of my children?" I asked. Priscilla choked on her food and began coughing. I quickly got her a glass of water and offered it to her. She gulped it down.

"Please don't make jokes like that. Why would I be the mother of your children?" Priscilla asked. I sighed, knowing what might happen if she discovered the truth.

"But what if I'm not joking and I want you to be the mother of my children?" I asked.

"No way. I don't want any children or anything that'll disturb my peace of mind," Priscilla said, calming her coughs. "Why are we even talking about this depressing topic? Love, marriage, and kids. I'm not interested. I just want to eat my ice cream and go to sleep."

I didn't say anything, knowing I'd be in trouble if Priscilla found out she was pregnant with my child. I feared for our child if Priscilla hated me this much.

"Priscilla, do you hate me?" I asked, bracing myself for her response.

"Of course, I hate you more than you can imagine. You're forcing me to stay in your house," Priscilla replied, and I swallowed hard.

"If I did something you didn't like, like make you bear my child, what would you do?" I asked, regretting it as soon as I said it.

"I'd chop your head off and feed it to the crocodiles," Priscilla said. I feared for our child, knowing she might do something extreme.

After ice cream, we returned home. By the time we got back, Priscilla had fallen asleep, so I carried her inside the house.

I found myself seated on the plush couch in Priscilla's room, the minutes ticking away as I anxiously waited for her to drift off into a peaceful slumber. Just as I was about to rise from the chair and exit the room, a piercing scream shattered the silence.

"Leave me... Mommy... Please, just leave me," Priscilla cried out, her small frame convulsing as she kicked at the empty air. Her pleas grew louder, "Let go of me... Please, just leave me..."

My heart raced with concern as I hurried to her side, perching myself on the edge of the bed. "Priscilla," I called out, gently shaking her trembling body. But her screams only intensified, echoing through the room.

"Let go of me... Mom... Help me... Mom," Priscilla's voice cracked, her closed eyes now brimming with tears. The sight tugged at my heartstrings, leaving a lump in my throat. What had happened to her?

"Nooo!" Priscilla's scream reached a crescendo as she abruptly sat up in bed, her body drenched in sweat and her sobs uncontrollable. The anguish etched on her face was unbearable to witness.

At that moment, I longed to provide solace and comfort, to shield her from that nightmare that hunts her every night.

I embraced her tightly, feeling the weight of her body against mine as she reciprocated the hug, her tears soaking into the fabric of my shirt. At that moment, I yearned to solve the mystery of what had happened to her, for I knew that understanding her past was important to offer any assistance.

"Priscilla, please try to calm yourself," I murmured, my fingers gently soothingly caressing her hair. Her sobs seemed unrelenting, and I couldn't help but wonder what traumatic experiences from her childhood were haunting her dreams. I longed for her to confess to me, to share the burden she carried, but deep down, I understood that trust needed to be earned before she would feel comfortable enough to reveal her secrets. Thus, I decided to patiently await the day when she would feel safe enough to open up to me.

As I held her, I couldn't bear to witness her anguish any longer. I would rather tolerate the facade of her fake sobs than witness her genuine tears. It was evident from her behavior that someone had violated her, and attempted to impose their will upon her. Though uncertain of the specifics, I sensed that something truly dreadful had occurred, leaving an indelible mark upon her soul.

"Mom, please don't leave me. I'm terrified," Priscilla sobbed, her words piercing my heart like a sharp arrow. The absence of her mother in this moment of distress only boosted the helplessness I felt. I yearned to provide solace, yet I wrestled with the knowledge that my ability to aid her in such a state was limited to offering a comforting embrace.

At that moment, I decided to be a steadfast presence in her life, to offer unwavering support and understanding. I knew that healing would be a gradual process, but I was determined to be there for her every step of the way.