The Bad Seedling

By Olivia Marie

Hannah and Delilah were twins but that was where their similarities ended.

Delilah had always been pushed aside. Dubbed the "bad seed", she embraced her ability to make people uncomfortable.

Learning from an early age what made her special, she spent her childhood perfecting the gifts her father gave her.

Would there be any saving the soul of a child doomed to be evil or would the only option be to let her go?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crazy Ink
• Release date: Oct 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393240389

Book preview

PROLOGUE

As far back as I could remember, I had been different than my family. They were sweet and good, like it came so natural to them. I had to fight all that I felt in me to be good once in a while. More times than not, I gravitated toward the darker things.

I don’t think it would have been so bad if it wouldn’t have been for my twin sister, Hannah. She was perfect. The golden child, the one who never did wrong. On the very few occasions it had been her, I was still blamed. For all her perfections, sticking up for me hadn’t been one of them. She would let me take whatever heat came at us and sit there smiling at our parents with her perfect grin while I was told how evil I was.

I didn’t fully blame her. If I had a way to escape the punishments The Village put on those who disobeyed, I would have without batting an eye. The rules they put on us and how we were expected to act was something nobody could have lived up to. Having no clue on my past, I wondered why Hannah and I were so special to them.

It would be years before I learned the truth about all the whispers and sideways glances thrown my way. By then it was too late. Who and what I was had already been ingrained in my every fiber.

In a way, it saddened me to know my fate was what drove me to the life I had. I wasn’t really given a chance to be what I could have been, and the only ones that were at fault were all the adults in my life that should have loved, guided, and protected me. My mom said she tried to do what she could for us, but being as young as she was when the slut went and had us, she didn’t stand a chance at making our lives any better than hers had been. She felt like she did better for us because she kept us away from the Messiah. It wasn’t all that hard for her, and she didn’t have to put up much of a fight, because he was dead. He saved us from him more than she did. Maybe if he would have been around, I would have learned his ways and not felt like such an outcast.

As it was though, I learned before I was four years old, that the only one I could count on...was me.

CHAPTER ONE

O h my, Delilah. What am I going to do with you? Did you really have to do that? my mother asked as she rocked my crying sister in her arms. Hannah snuggled into her breast as she stroked her light blonde hair. Sniffling and shaking, she refused to look up at either of us.

Folding my small arms across my body, I tapped my foot on the floor waiting for the scene in front of me to end and to hear my punishment. My mom wouldn’t listen to why I hit Hannah in the nose. It wouldn’t matter to her. All that mattered was keeping Hannah from being upset. That made me even angrier and I wasn’t sure why.

Hurts, Momma, Hannah cried again. She always sounded like a baby, whining and sniffling all the time. We were four then and she still sounded two with her high-pitched squeaks. She didn’t look up as she talked and was muffled in my mom’s shirt.

I know, baby. You’ll be okay.

I rolled my eyes and huffed listening to them talk. It made me physically sick to watch them. At least my dad wasn’t there too. He would have punished me harder than my mom would. I knew she would tell him, because she always told him, but by the time she did, the situation would have died down a little.

Why did you hit her this time? my mom asked again.

She wouldn’t stop following me. I wanted to be alone, I whined. It wasn’t the total truth, but she didn’t need to know that either.

I did want to be alone, but not because I wanted peace. I wanted to be alone to check on the dead mouse I found behind the house that morning. I wanted to feel it, poke at its plump belly, and see if it was still warm. I wanted to know if it would be hard to poke a stick through it and what would come out of it when I did. I wanted to see if it were the same as the small baby bunny I tried it on last week or if it would be different because it was a mouse and not a bunny.

I couldn’t help but smile thinking about the sounds the bunny made as I poked it in the eye. Not being completely dead yet, but close, it screamed as the little nail I found went in. The pop it made when I finally broke through made my heart race and, for the first time ever, I felt alive.

This isn’t funny, young lady, she snapped, breaking into my thoughts and pissing me off.

It could be, I mumbled.

What? she demanded.

Nothing. Can I go outside?

No. You can go to your room until your dad gets home.

Do you always have to tell him everything? As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I had sealed my fate of a full punishment. I didn’t care anymore. It was always about Hannah and what her and Mom wanted. Dad would do whatever she said even if he hadn’t heard the whole thing. My name left her lips and he was in instant punishment mode.

When it comes to this family, yes. Now go. She pointed her small finger in the direction of our room, and I heard Hannah whine.

Spinning on my heels, I stomped loudly down the hall taking giant steps to make the most noise as my hard-soled shoes hit the wooden floor. Making it to my room, I turned with my hand on the side of the door, locking eyes with her, and slammed it as hard as I could.

I went to my bed, flopped down on my back, and stared up at my ceiling. No matter what I did, Hannah was always right, and I was always wrong. I hated my family and couldn’t wait until I was old enough to move out. Then they wouldn’t be able to tell me what to do and I wouldn’t have to be there with them. I didn’t get why I was born into a family of losers, but there I was.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

I rolled over wiping the sleep from my eyes and trying to figure out what was going on. I must have fallen asleep when nobody came back to get me. The sun was dipping lower in the sky and the gruff voice on the other side of my door told me I had been asleep for a long time.

Honey? It’s Dad. Can you open the door, please?

Sitting up, I hung my head taking a deep breath before moving off the bed. He wasn’t a wimp, but the small pile of things I stacked in front of the door seemed to be a challenge for him. It made me laugh.

After moving the books, clothes, and nightstand away, I opened the door, turned, and walked back to my bed without looking at him or waiting for him to talk. I knew what he was going to say. It was the same thing every time. I