Chapter Text
The past month had been a blur of killing time, and trying not to think of what happened on Sinsmas for Octavia. She was trying to keep herself numb, which like usual, was not a hard job. Her mother had been an ass, but she loved her. Octavia had no doubts about that. She tiredly sat down on top of her purple bedsheets, wrapping the black blanket sitting on top around herself. The blanket had been a gift from Stolas when she turned 5 years old - or so she was told. She couldn’t really remember anything that she was told had occurred back then, nothing bad or good. Everything was gone, but she had decided it wasn’t good to dwell on it for long.
Octavia shivered from the cold in the palace, as Stella and Andrealphus had done some redecorating in Stolas’ absence. The ice that they put around the palace crept into every corner and every hallway, but Octavia had managed to keep it out of her room with a space heater found in the attic. Now, this was the only place in the palace where she felt physically okay. Mentally, it was a completely different story. Octavia was constantly worried, and ready to flee, if needed. Any sudden noise, any anger - even if the person was barely upset, and Octavia was still assessing their anger - set her off, and put her into defense. She didn’t know why, but that’s all it took.
Octavia didn’t think her mother was abusive, just that she got a bit upset sometimes. It’s not like Stolas was any better - in Octavia’s mind at least. He had left her, and broken promises multiple times. And according to her mother, he cheated on her just for petty revenge, and to see her upset. She always favored her mother, as she was predictable. Octavia could predict her outbursts, and find safety in her room, as long as her mother didn’t want Octavia to stay so she could shout at her.
Her father, on the other hand, was unpredictable. He wouldn’t yell. In fact, he would try to calm Stella’s anger, and told Octavia to stay calm, as not to upset her mother further. This never really worked, though, and Stella was still as upset as always, at every single mistake.
A broken cup crossed Octavia’s mind suddenly. The glass littering the floor, and sparkling in the sun. It was a Tuesday, and Octavia was just playing. She was being too loud for her mother, and Stella got fed up, and-
Octavia looked down at the ground, her blanket still clutched in her hands, and her vision slowly coming back to her. Her mother was just overwhelmed that day. Yeah. That’s what happened. Octavia quickly attempted to shake off the fear creeping into her, telling herself that it was in the past, and didn’t mean much.
It had occurred to her that she was starting to forget her fathers face. A look of fear came upon her, before shaking her head and dismissing it. She knew he was a bad man. He left her and her mother for his selfish affair with that imp.
“Wasn’t that worth remembering, I guess,”
Octavia muttered to herself, standing up quickly, and creeping across the room to the closet. She pulled softly at the glass handle of the door, taking a step forward to reach for a few of her fathers items she kept after the fight, the rest all up in storage. She took a wicker bin from the top shelf, and went back to the center of the room, placing her fathers items down before dropping herself down onto the rug.
Octavia pulled the first item out, just to keep her fathers face in her mind. It was a photograph of her and Stolas at “Loo Loo Land,” probably around age 7. Octavia knew now that it was one of many routine trips to the amusement park so they both could get out of the house and away from Stella.
“Why would anyone not like mother?”
Octavia asked herself aloud. Her mother was her only friend. She may not have been a good one, but she was the best thing Octavia had ever known. She knew that Stolas was kind to her when she was a child, but she couldn’t remember those days anymore, just chalking it up to bad memory. She had heard that this disremembrance of her childhood could be linked to trauma, but she didn’t think her mother was abusive, just eccentric and emotional.
Octavia moves on to the next item, but remembers her mothers words in her head as she picks up her fathers guitar, gifted later to her.
“That man is vile, and should not be trusted further.”
Octavia places the guitar on her thigh, and begins to slowly tune the strings, playing one every few moments. She played a chord, just a simple one, and it rang through the whole room, rapidly disrupting Octavia’s peace. Octavia quickly covered the strings on the guitar with her hand. This one chord had made her remember her father even more, and the nights they would spend together of Stolas playing Octavia songs in his freetime. She hated remembering him, because she knew that it was easier to go through life forgetting. She knew it was less painful that way, and her brain knew it too, forgetting most of her life before 11.
The guitar is thrust onto the bed, as Octavia storms across her room and puts the wicker bin back into the closet. Her father left her, and she knows it. It’s one of the few rare things she hasn’t forgotten. Every single time she remembers him, she lets herself remember everything he did, and how he took her trust for granted. Octavia sits on her bed, her breathing slowly coming down, as she processes everything once again, running through it in her head, over and over.
She places the guitar on a nearby chair, balancing it neatly against the leather. Through this past month, Octavia’s rage against her father had only grown, as she heard more and more about her father from Stella, and the longer she had time to dwell on the memory of him picking that imp over her. Well, at least about half of the memory, as it faded a bit in the days following.
Octavia can hear Stella and Andrealphus loudly talking downstairs, probably laughing at Stolas again. They loved doing that the past month. Sure, Octavia hated her dad, but she thought the one good thing about him leaving would be that the screaming in the house would end, but Stella just enjoyed tormenting him from a distance, and tormenting Octavia, loudly, and not from a distance.
“Octavia, dear, come down from dinner,”
Stella snarled from downstairs. After hearing her mothers command, Octavia rapidly stood up and skittered across the room, but not before sighing. Facing her mother was always a gamble of how well the evening would go. If Stella was in a good mood tonight, it could be a relatively enjoyable and calm dinner.
If Stella was in a bad mood, however..
(4 years ago, 13 years old.)
“All I’m saying, Octavia, is that all you do is complain,”
Stella screeched, the words echoing off the hallway walls,
“And I am fucking sick of hearing it!”
Octavia stumbled backwards, away from her mother. All she wanted at this moment was to get away from her mother, to find safety.
“M-Mother, I just don’t want to date that boy,”
Octavia choked out, trying to calm her mother down. She walked backwards. She was trying to stay calm herself, because as she’d learned over the years from Stolas, she should act calm to not upset Stella.
“Why are you disrespecting me, Octavia? I am your mother, and I have done so much for you, but all you have ever done is disrespect me!”
Octavia continued backing away, her vision blurring. She knew that there was no use in trying to calm her mother down this time, and to just wait it out, and get herself to safety.
“Mother, I’m not-”
Stella's arm flew across the air between the two, striking Octavia. Octavia fell to the ground with a loud thud, holding an arm over her chest, where Stella struck her.
“Be quiet, and learn your place, Dear. I’m doing you a favor.”
Stella walked away after that, and Octavia was left laying on the tile of the hallway, the pain stinging her chest, but fading slightly.
This memory had faded slightly over the years for Octavia, like all the rest.
(Present day, 17 years old.)
Octavia eventually found herself in the fancily decorated dining room of the palace. There was a silver chandelier hanging above the table, and the table itself was long, and meant for parties, but there were only 3 chairs sitting at the table.
Stella had moved Stolas’s chair very soon after he was banished, mostly as an act of revenge, as if moving a chair somehow got back at him for his cheating and ruining of the family name.
Stella and Andrealphus strode into the dining room shortly after Octavia had entered, still laughing and talking to each other like school children would.
“Well, look who finally decided to be a part of the family,”
Stella half teased, looking over to Octavia with a look of disdain. Stella confidently walked to her seat and sat down, placing her arm on the table to support her head, and peering at Octavia in an almost pitying way.
“It’s just been a lot,”
Octavia admitted sincerely, not really understanding her mothers sarcasm.
The workers of the palace quickly came over and passed out plates of food to the three at the table, and they started eating. Octavia picked at her food a bit, hating the food that her mother picked out. She was always opting for fancy dishes, and Octavia did not enjoy that type of food, instead, finding it utterly disgusting.
“So how’s school?”
Stella sounded bored when asking the question, like this was an obligation that she was upholding for herself.
“It’s going fine,”
Octavia said, matching her mother’s bored attitude. She was still picking at her food, cringing a bit when she tasted a piece of fish she had cut.
Andrealphus suddenly seemed very interested in the conversation, poking his head up from his plate momentarily.
“Well, Via, that sounds good.”
Octavia always found Andrealphus a bit weird. Technically, he was her uncle, but he tried to act more like a father to her, constantly asking about her day, and showing interest in her. At least to Octavia, he was more of a father than Stolas ever was.
After a while, the conversation died down, like it usually did now that Stolas wasn’t around. Stella and Andrealphus went into the office on claim of “legal logistics,” and they spoke in very hushed tones, as if afraid of Octavia hearing them.
As it was 11 P.M. by now, Octavia went up to her room, and turned up the space heater promptly after entering. She was so cold downstairs due to the ice enveloping the entire palace, and she felt overall more safe in her room. After crossing her room, Octavia took out a record from the band Fuck You, Dad, and placed it on the record player. She carefully placed down the needle onto the vinyl, and went over to her bed, lying down.
This had been a long day, in a series of long days. Every day to Octavia was the same; Wake up, get dressed, and avoid pissing off her mother by any means. This had become Octavia’s daily routine, with Stolas no longer around to mediate Stella.
After two hours that Octavia spent staring at the ceiling, she eventually fell asleep. The moon was out, and was shining faintly through Octavias windows. Her father always loved the moon, the stars, and his studies about them.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be like him and fulfill his duties anymore, though.