Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

It opened, its swing slow and creaking. She then looked, and her eyes suddenly glinted. “Bren!” She stepped forward, animated by her excitement. “Bren, listen! There’s something you must kn—”

“Shut the hell up and follow me!”

At that moment, Deirdre noticed how bone-chillingly frigid he looked. She instantly froze. “W-What’s going on?”

His stare could freeze blood. “Lena was out driving. She ran over someone by accident and killed them. Then, she ran.”

Deirdre’s mind went blank. “She killed someone in a hit-and-run? Then she should report herself to the authorities! What does this have to do with—”

A lump formed in her throat. Her voice broke and disbelief dawned on her as she fixed her eyes on him.

His words came out like a decree. “Take the blame for her crime.”

Deirdre’s eyes widened in horror, and she felt like her world was on the brink of collapsing. “No! No, no, no! No! Why? Why should I be the one to… to be imprisoned? To be sentenced to death? To suffer in her place?!”

“Because, Deirdre McKinnon, you pretended to be her for two years!” Brendan snarled. That woman’s wails were so grating that he cringed. “They managed to snap a picture of her when she ran away, but the two of you look the same anyway! Everyone will think it was you. You have nowhere to hide.”

“Then tell the world we’re not the same person! Tell them that Charlene and I are two different people!” she yelled, her breaths heavy and labored. “And you’re wrong about me pretending to be her. She’s the pretender! She took away my life six years ago! I was the one who risked her life to save you from the fire, Bren! It was me!”

Deirdre had expected disbelief and shock, and yet to her surprise, Brendan hardly frowned. Something worse took over his features—disgust. “Lena was right. You found out about her rescuing me from the fire six years ago, and your sorry *ss immediately tried to pretend to be her in that story! You really scraped the bottom of the barrel, Deirdre.”

“What… are you saying?”

“If you really were the one who saved me 6 years ago, why didn’t you blare it out like a f*cking PSA over the past two years? It would be just like you to want the whole f*cking world to know!”

Tears burst out of her eyes. God knows how much she had tried to tell him over the past two years, but he had never let her finish a sentence. He hated hearing her speak, and the only thing he could stomach was her face. His favorite version of her was that of a lowly mute.

“Look, I have had enough. Report yourself to the authorities without any funny business and I’ll make sure you don’t get the death sentence. You’ll get a few years maybe, but by the time you’re released, I’ll compensate you for your time.”

a few years maybe? A few years?!

“Fat chance, Brendan Brighthall! Don’t you even think you

then overcame him. “Ah. I get it. You love it rough. You’ve always, always loved it rough, right?

from her to destination

on the floor. By the time she recovered enough strength to collect her phone, she instantly

call in a heartbeat.

Where are you,

vulnerable. Tears welled up in Deirdre’s eyes.

typical child. Since Deirdre had agreed to become Charlene’s placeholder wife, Brendan had moved her mother to a

nothing short of unexpected. Deirdre sniffled and checked herself before answering, “Hi, M-Mom. I’m, uh, at home with Brendan right now. Why are

Engel? She went away.”

Deirdre parroted, feeling stunned. Her mother’s nurse, Mrs. Engel, had never left her mother’s side. “Where

else’s? There were people over here. They broke things and pushed me and said they wanted me to

though, she suddenly heard Ophelia’s

“Mom?! Mom!”

cries echoing into the void. She felt her heart palpitating and leaped

mother. Deirdre lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of his sleeve, and demanded, “Who are you?! Where is my mother?! What have you people done to her?!”

her hand away without showing a tinge of sympathy. “That nutcase was your mother?! God, crazy does run in the family! Those people should have taken you to the

Deirdre’s eyes widened in rage. “You people sent my mother to an institution and claimed this house as your

back and wants your mother hopping merrily away, okay? By the way, I know you’re thankful for us

got in his car smugly and drove away.

to reconstruct scenes of her mother—scared, alone, confused—being manhandled and dragged to a mental institution

had been holding. It was a video. Deirdre opened it and saw

was her

a disembodied voice. Whoever was speaking was standing outside of

of mushy chum so minced and gooey that no one could tell what kind of food it was supposed to be made of. There were

bowl of it and flung it at Ophelia.

disobediently. She shot a look at the food and pinched her nose. “It

your lunch, looney! You should be grateful to even have a meal! Stop being a picky sh*t

jerked away from the man’s bark. Still, she shook her head. “B-B-But I don’t wanna! It stinks! It’ll give me