The Wraith Family

August, 2002

Mallory walked into the dayroom, balancing a stack of dirty plates in her hands, each step echoing heavily on the floor. Seizing the moment, an uninterested Calvin Wraith decided to trip her as she passed by his seat, where he was engrossed in playing Snake on his phone. With a loud crash, Mallory stumbled and fell, sending the plates crashing to the ground and scattering everywhere. The commotion caught Mrs. Wraith's attention, and she rushed into the room, fuming with anger at the chaos.

"Stupid girl!" Mrs. Wraith scolded and placed a hard slap across Mollory's face. With ringing ears and burning tears in her eyes, Mallory took a deep breath, striving to keep her voice steady as she pleaded, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wraith. I'll clean this up right away." Lowering her gaze, she could hear Calvin snickering from the sofa, a smug grin on his face. "Yes, you will. I expect this room to be spotless in under an hour," Mrs. Wraith snapped, shoving Mallory aside before storming out.

"Why did you do that?" Mallory asked, her voice strained as she looked up at Calvin after Mrs. Wraith had closed the door. Calvin stood up and moved closer, stopping just inches away from the frightened Mallory.

He over-styled his hair with an excess of wax, and his grey eyes seemed to mock her, intensifying her fear of him.

"Don't forget your place, slave," Calvin hissed and grabbed Mallory by the neck and pushed her up against the wall next to the window, "Or do you want me to come by your room later tonight and punish you?" He whispered in Mallory's ear while she fought to breathe.

She shook her head, and Calvin grinned before he freed her again. Mallory falls to the floor, tears streaming down her face. 

"Clean yourself up. If my father sees you like this..." Calvin didn't finish the sentence; he didn't have to, and the raised eyebrow said it all before he left the room laughing. 

Mallory stood up quickly, gathering the cleaning supplies to tackle Calvin's mess. She understood that pleading her innocence would be pointless; she never had a voice in this household. As a child of just five, she had been handed over to the Wraith family, a cruel outcome of her family's failed business dealings. For the past thirteen years, that harsh reality had been thrown in her face. 

To them, she was worthless, unwanted, and ugly. Her early childhood was a hazy blur, nearly erased from her memory. All she had ever known was doing chores for the Wraiths, following their orders, and enduring punishment whenever they pleased.

She was never permitted to leave the property, and without Ms. Mary, she wouldn't even have learned how to read.

Years of abuse and neglect were taking a toll on Mallory. She could endure Mrs. Wraith'sWraiths'name-calling, Calvin's roCalvin'stment, and sexist threats.

But Mr. Wraith was a different story. He was a towering figure with slicked-back gray hair, and his cold, gray eyes glared out from a stern face lined with deep wrinkles and a pointed chin. His mustache was meticulously groomed, twisted at the ends, and quivered whenever he was out of breath and furious.

Unfortunately, Mallory frequently found herself on the receiving end of his vicious blows and sadistic tendencies. The mere thought of that sinister man sent a shiver down her spine. Gathering her resolve, she quickly wiped the last glass from the floor before hurrying out of the room. She made her way to the kitchen, tossed the broken glass into the trash bag, and sighed in relief.

Oh no. Mallory saw the clock on the wall, and the time was nearly seven o'clock at night, meaning that she was late preparing the dinner that should be served within fifteen minutes. 

She cursed herself and quickly began to prepare the chicken and pale the potatoes while the oven was heating up. But she knew it was pointless; the dinner would only be served earliest at seven-thirty, and Mr. Wraith would be furious by then.-

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Mr. Wraith sat down at the dinner table at preciously seven o'clock. At the same time, he had eaten dinner for the last fifty years. He liked tradition and wanted life as always in the Wraith family. 

Mr. Wraith was the CEO. At the family business, he had taken over after his father. The position had been passed on for generations amongst the Wraith men. Calvin would be honored and take over next after stepping down and retiring.

One minute passed seven, and Mr. Wraith's anger began to surface. He hated waiting, and he hated that possum, Mallory. 

Her innocent blue eyes and stripy, long, red hair really provoked him. He gritted his teeth as he thought of her slender body and firm breasts that he had begun to notice a year ago. 

Not even her baggy clothes could hide them from him.

He stood up with a bang from the chair that fell over and saw his wife, Mrs. Wraith, winch when it did. He glared at his wife, and she turned away her gaze to submit under him. Mr. Wraith studied her and milled. 

After years of treatment, her once blonde, shiny hair was now bleached and damaged. Her face was injected with Botox in every line, making it tightened and expressionless, and her recent weight gain made him resent her even more, more than he already did.

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"Sit down, love. I will see what the hold-up is," Mrs. Wraith excused herself and left for the kitchen.

Mallory mixed the salad with shaky hands as she saw the time was past seven, and she closed her eyes when she heard footsteps passing through the hall.

"Where is the dinner? Mr. Wraith is livid out there!" Mrs. Wraith grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and threw it at Mallory.

"I am terribly sorry, Mrs. Wraith, the cleaning took time from the dinner preparations," 

"Don't give me your hollow excuses, worthless cow!" Another apple was thrown and hit Mallory in the back. "Aouw," Mallory cried when it had hit a bruise Mr. Wraith had caused from last night's beating.

"Oh, that hurt?" Mrs. Wraith said mockingly and gripped a pan from the stove.

__________________

"STOP!" Mr. Wraith shouted as he stormed into the kitchen. Mallory froze, her head dropping in an instant. "I want my dinner served, and I want it now!" he hissed, his jaw clenched tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Wraith. I was running behind with dinner, and I'm afraid the chicken won't be ready until seven-thirty," Mallory stumbled over her words, feeling small as she kept her gaze fixed on the floor.

"This is entirely unacceptable! I'll deal with you later tonight," he snapped before leaving the room, making Mallory flinch as the door slammed shut behind him.

"Look at what you've done, you foolish girl," Mrs. Wraith said with disdain, striding out of the room, relieved to have escaped her husband's wrath.