She wanted to scream. Yell. Call out into the night until a strange hero swooped in to rescue her. She wanted to kick. Punch. Fight her way out of the frosty grasp that seemed to be closing in on her. Suffocating her. Betty longed to curl into herself and disappear from the world.
Instead, she slowly nodded her head in obedience; Like the good little kitten that she was.
“Yes, Ma'am. I understand.” The words fell almost robotically from tight lips, golden speckled hues gazing blankly off into the abyss. It was exactly like a twisted children's novel. A series of very unfortunate events had led to Betty being sent to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. Stupidly, she’d brought a stranger into her home. A foreigner who too easily took advantage of her mother. Manipulated the situation perfectly to his liking and now Betty was trapped. Hidden away from the world like a chipped teacup, shoved into the back of a hutch. Out of sight, out of mind.
She couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would catch on to her disappearance. Would they believe whatever foolish nonsense Chic and her mother came up with? Would they come for her? Or were they all too wrapped up in their own issues to realize she’d been taken by a thief in the night? Would anyone care?
It was thoughts like those that were going to keep her up at night.
Plague her; Festering within her until she was nothing more than an empty shell of the girl next door, she used to be.
This was the type of place that changed you.
And NEVER for the better.
Allowing the nun to bark off rules and procedures, Betty simply nodded her head, though her mind was elsewhere. Out of the corner of her eye, she’d caught the slightest glance of a cherry haired female. Instantly, her heart dropped.
That stunning shade of crimson could only belong to one person.
Cheryl Blossom.
Her stomach churned violently, causing her to gasp weakly. This wasn’t possible, was it? Hadn’t Cheryl been shipped off to some amazing boarding school?
Wasn’t she safe? And far away from Riverdale?
That’s what they’d been told.
That’s what she’d believed.
‘It’s not her. It’s not her. It can’t be her.’ The blonde mentally yelled over and over again to herself. She’d been seeing things. She HAD to be seeing things... Right? Betty had just started to believe that it might have been a figment of her imagination when the Sister called her over.
‘‘Cheryl, be a dear and show Elizabeth to your all’s room.’’
Jaw clenched, frame stiff, Betty gawked at the redhead as if she were an angel who’d just had her wings torn from her back. And in many ways, that’s almost how it looked. Though it was clear that the ruby haired girl was indeed her cousin, it was as if she’d tumbled painfully from grace.
A fallen angel.
“C-Cheryl... You’re here...” // - @cherylblcsscms
