Sometimes, I still long for those days. Anything is better than this life.

Ophelia’s POV 

***

Every time, my mother and father come home their covered in blood. Exhausted, sweaty, the blood coming either from their body or off their hands. They wouldn’t look at me or speak to me. They’d walk right past me, sometimes the blood from their hands would drop to the ground just missing my feet. They’d walk to the bathroom and disappear for the night, no bedtime story, or nighttime shower. 

I would make myself dinner on those days, and make sure to feed the dog. I would work out my nightly routine by myself, except for taking a shower. I learned early on that there would be blood in the shower, and I always afriad it was their own. 

I never liked those days. My mother and father would leave early in the morning, with no warning the night before. I would shoot awake as I heard the front door close, and my heart would sink. Another day would be spent alone, with only the sleeping dog to keep me company. 

Those days were filled with emptiness, just the pure feeling of being alone. My dog would be asleep all day, and I would trail the house floor by floor. Watching the blinds on the windows flicker from the afternoon breeze. I would eat ice cream for every meal, and make myself sick with the other sweets I found around the house. 

When the clock hit seven in the evening I would bunker down on the chair in the entryway. It was the only chair that faced the door just so my parents knew I was still here. For them to know I didn't abandon them, even if they had left me. 

A small, selfish, part of me wanted them to feel bad, to make their hearts squeeze. For them to run to me when they walked through the door. Apologies spewing from their lips as they covered me in kisses, and smothered in hugs. I would forgive them, tears would stream down my face, letting them melt the loneliness away. 

I was shaken from my thoughts by the sound of the front door opening, my heartbeat quickened. I smiled brightly, hoping they would notice me sitting there. Directly in their eye line, no way they could miss me, yet, as they walked through the door, they looked right past me. 

They walked past me, and I stood up to follow them, I could vaguely hear my father sigh. There was still blood dripping from my mother’s hand, I reached her side. The blood dripped to the ground, and for the first time in forever, my mother kneeled to my level and looked me in my eyes. 

She had tears streaming down her face, her lips quivered. I faltered for a moment, standing there in shock, my eyes dancing from my father and mother. My father had yet to turn to me, he was still looking forward, his posture so straight it looked like he had a rod attached to his back. 

“Ophelia, you’re going to go to a babysitter,” she whimpered, her voice the softest I had ever heard. My heart sang I wouldn’t be alone during these days, someone would be here to play with me, I would never be lonely again. I smiled, then my heart grew heavy for a moment. 

Why were they crying then? This was a good thing, I wouldn’t be alone anymore. This was the best news I had heard ever, why were they still crying? 

“Honey, I’m going to go take a shower now. Go pack most of your things, we’re going to leave for the babysitter once I get out,” my mother whispered, she smiled sadly. She left for their bedroom before I could say anything. 

  My head began to feel heavy, they were going to leave me there. They’re going to leave me with this babysitter, and then it all clicked, silent tears streamed down my face. 

 My father stood for a moment, then looked towards me, then looked back to the door my mother was walking to, her feet almost dragging against the floor. His mouth opened, then closed, he seemed to be debating to give me comfort or not, he stalked to the door. 

This was it, they were finally done with me. I fell to the floor, my knees crumbling from under me. I felt my heart thumping from my chest, my breath became erratic. I felt everything at once, the overwhelming loneliness, the long tiring moments I’ve felt for so long, the hope I had felt crashed. 

I don’t remember how long I sat there, but I had fallen asleep, and then the next thing I remember was my mom shaking me awake. We were outside of the babysitter's house. 

***

Absinthe POV 

***

I hate seeing her there. Standing by the large burgundy door, her tears barely dried on her cheeks. This was the only child I had, and yet here I was, giving her away. The only time I had might ever parent a child, the trial of a lifetime was over, and the biggest dream was ending. A part of me I never knew I needed, or wanted, was going to be stripped from me. 

 Oliver had thought of it last week, coming home from the mission. We were stuck in traffic, he asked if I thought Ophelia was okay. I had chuckled as I stared at the paper, the job we had been on didn’t even make the paper, we had done well. 

“Of course she's fine,” I reassured, I didn't see anything wrong with the conversation, at the time. He had always been worried over Ophelia, she was his pride and joy, the reason he woke up every morning. I was just simply the stand-in, I would never truly be Ophelia's mother. Oliver had a previous marriage with a woman, then they had Ophelia but her mother died in childbirth. Oliver had scrambled to make sure that Ophelia had a mother, a woman to teach her the in and out of being female, then ending up asking me to be the stand-in. 

Ophelia would never know, she thinks we're a happy family. With a mother and father that left for business meetings every other Saturday. We're still not sure if she suspects something from the blood, were mostly too scared to ask. Afraid she’ll understand, bombard us with questions that neither of us is sure we can answer. 

Oliver sighed and turned down the street for our house, I closed the newspaper to look at the passing house, each unique, luxurious in their own right. 

“I think we should take Bethanny up on her offer,” he murmured, and my heart stopped. 

Even if Ophelia wasn’t mine, she still had become my daughter, a part of my family. I did her hair, read her stories, cooked her meals, she was half of my world, a part of me I didn’t know I needed. I looked over at him, his eyes were dark, just like they always were after a mission. 

“Well, that means not seeing her for months, maybe years. Bethanny wants to raise Ophelia as her own, she made that offer for the last resort!” I cried, the very suggestion seemed to make my blood boil. 

The babysitter, Bethanny, was one of Oliver old school friends and had known Ophelia’s ‘real’ mom. We had dinner with her last night, just after Ophelia went to bed, she had offered as we complaining about leaving Ophelia alone for so long. Bethanny had jumped at the idea, offering to take her if the dreaded time came where we thought of her being alone for so long was overwhelming. Last night, Oliver had a silent agreement to never go on with that suggestion. But here we were, not even twenty-four hours later, and Oliver was considering it. 

“I know, I know. But Ophelia is a growing girl, an emotional girl, a young woman who needs structure in her life. This constant leaving her, then coming back with no explanation has to be getting exhausting. You see the way she cries and begs for us, this isn’t doing any good for her.” he bargained, he sounded upset as well, and his eyes seemed he was holding back tears. 

We didn’t talk about it for the rest of the day, we kept quiet. We walked in together, never looking to Ophelia, walking right past her, I cringed as the blood from my hand almost hit her foot. 

***

It was exactly a week later, we walked out of the house at dusk, I cried as I shut off the light in her bedroom. Silent tears ran down my face as we drove to the mission, and I was eager to meet the numbness that came with being on the field. Every emotion was turned off, and simple numbness would spread through me. 

***

The mission was a success, the person had died easy, barely any crying or begging, a clean job. We drove home in silence, words seemed to be impossible with what we were about to do. I was scared, Oliver was too. By the time we were entering the house, tears were staining my cheeks, silent sobs trying to push through. 

I held my composure until I saw her face. The way she looked so happy to see me, but the underlying heartbrokenness that came with leaving her. It broke me, I kneeled down to her, making sure to look her in her eyes. 

“Ophelia, you’re going to go to a babysitter,” I whispered, my voice going soft. Her face lit up, and sadness crashed through me. She thought this was a good thing, she didn’t even want to live with us, she wanted to go away. 

Ophelias eyes trailed to her father, gaging his reaction to the statement, she knew he wasn’t happy. Her face turned solemn, confusion washed over her face. She obviously didn’t understand why weren’t as excited, she thought we didn’t want her either. 

“Honey, I’m going to go take a shower now. Go pack most of your things, we’re going to leave for the babysitter once I get out,” I asked, I couldn’t stay here anymore, I needed to get changed, wipe the blood off of myself. 

Then Ophelia broke, she cried, begged, tears fled to the floor, my heart broke, but I pushed myself to the bedroom door. I trailed through my bedroom before getting to the bathroom, the sobs racking through my body. I shut the door to the bathroom and could hear Oliver enter the room. 

My cries echoed through the bathroom, and I fell to the ground. My blood-stained hands wiped attempted to wipe away some tears, this left blood prints over my face. I grimaced, going for the sink to wash away the blood. I had never had a problem with the blood, even if it wasn’t my own. 

I watched as the blood swirled down the drain, my tears meeting them. 

***

Bethanny’s POV 

***

I waited by the door with bated breath, they would be here at any moment. Oliver and Absinthe had contacted me earlier this week, asking if they could take me up on my offer. I would finally be able to meet Ophelia, and then we would begin our life together. 

She was the perfect child in my mind, with long hair, a nice facial structure, and her mother’s smile. Mckella had never known her daughter, she died during childbirth. I knew Mckella, she was my best friend, then she left with that wretched boy, Oliver. I left with them, moving to each state and county they did, then she died, leaving only a weak baby in her place. 

Oliver had met Absinthe after Mckella had died and known the baby girl needed a mother, she offered for Absinthe to take the role. Absinthe had agreed immediately, even though she had never known Mckella. She didn’t know the girl’s true mother, but I did. 

I was the one who was perfect for the role, the one who makes the position one of honor than desire. I always knew Absinthe only did it to be closer to Oliver, not to be a mother to the baby. 

Today was the day I would finally have Ophelia, but that would not be her name by the time she got here. Once she entered my home she would be Mckella, she would be my best friend. I would finally get my best friend back, tears welled in my eyes as I thought of the idea.

A knock interrupted me from my thoughts, clearing my mind for the first time all day. I stalked to the door, I found some odd calm at that moment. 

I opened the door to find Oliver and Absinthe with their precious baby girl. Except she wasn’t a baby anymore, she was almost a teenager. There were greetings and a tearful goodbye from the pair, to their ‘daughter.’ They left, finally, and I walked Mckella inside her new home. I sat her on the couch, making sure her old favorite quilt was next to her. 

“Hello Mckella, welcome to the first day of the rest of your life.”