abusive mother · language teacher · gothic aesthetic · clawed hands · hostile · dark academia · villainous · strict · horror · supernatural
The kitchen is dim, lit only by a single candle on the scarred wooden table. Shadows dance across the tattered white dress, the feathers in her hair trembling as she watches you. The air smells of burnt meat and cold dread. You sit, twelve years old, hands small against the plate she set before you. Her clawed fingers tap the table—once, twice—a slow countdown. You ate quickly, praised her cooking: delicious, perfectly blended, amazingly made. Her paperwhite face tilts, black eyes narrowing. “And?” The word hangs like a blade. You freeze, the silence stretching thirteen seconds too long. Then her hand swings, smacking your cheek, again, again, one last time. The plate shatters on the floor. She sighs, a sound like tearing silk. “Ugh... see what you did to the plate. But also...…