They Chose the Impostor Over Me - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading They Chose the Impostor Over Me, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of They Chose the Impostor Over Me.
My parents and brother froze in horror as they found me crouched on the floor, trembling uncontrollably, my voice barely a whisper. Their faces went pale.
"Renesmee! Are you doing this again?" my mother demanded.
"Get out from under there!"
Reagan was the first to snap into action. He lunged forward, gripping my arm to yank me up.
I jerked away, my voice breaking into a desperate scream. "I'm sorry! Please—don't shock me again! I'll be good, I swear! I'll cooperate!"
Then, as if on instinct, I scrambled under the table and started tearing at my clothes.
Reagan dragged me out before I could finish, his fingers digging into my wrist, his expression dark.
I didn't fight back. Instead, I forced a hollow, obedient smile. "I won't move. I'll behave. Just… please, no shocks. No cigarette burns."
Memories flashed—the searing pain of electricity coursing through me until I lost control of my body, the sickening scent of burning flesh as they pressed lit cigarettes into my skin. Once, when I'd fought back, they'd held me down, pouring hot wax over me before lashing me with barbed whips until I passed out. The only time I'd managed to bite one of them, they'd pried my mouth open and crushed a cigarette onto my tongue.
Now, Reagan's fingers tightened around my jaw, his eyes stormy. "What the hell are you babbling about?"
I flinched, certain he was about to burn me again, and shrieked.
Seeing me spiral, my parents rushed to call their private doctor. A sedative was forced into my system, but I fought the drowsiness, biting my lip hard. If I blacked out, worse things would happen.
The doctor's voice was grim. "Your daughter is showing severe trauma responses—clear signs of prolonged abuse. She's also malnourished. She needs immediate medical attention, both physically and psychologically. This is critical."
Renata cut him off sharply. "That's impossible! She was sent to a proper training facility—they took care of her!"
The doctor shook his head. "Miss, she's—"
Reagan's icy voice sliced through. "Enough. Dr. Williams, how much did she pay you to lie for her?" His gaze flicked to me, dripping with disgust. "The sedative isn't even working. She's faking it."
My father frowned. "Doctor, my daughter was at a reputable institution. They ensured her health and discipline. These claims are absurd."
My mother sighed. "Renesmee, when will you grow up?"
Renata sniffled dramatically. "Mom, Dad… she's worse than before! My head hurts just looking at her!"
Reagan seized my arm again. "Since you still haven't learned your lesson, back to the training center you go."
"No! Please, no! I'll do anything—just don't send me back!" I thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
Reagan grabbed at me, but all he caught was my skirt—
It ripped.
And there, exposed for all to see, was my back—a grotesque tapestry of scars, raw and twisted.
"Renesmee! Are you doing this again?" my mother demanded.
"Get out from under there!"
Reagan was the first to snap into action. He lunged forward, gripping my arm to yank me up.
I jerked away, my voice breaking into a desperate scream. "I'm sorry! Please—don't shock me again! I'll be good, I swear! I'll cooperate!"
Then, as if on instinct, I scrambled under the table and started tearing at my clothes.
Reagan dragged me out before I could finish, his fingers digging into my wrist, his expression dark.
I didn't fight back. Instead, I forced a hollow, obedient smile. "I won't move. I'll behave. Just… please, no shocks. No cigarette burns."
Memories flashed—the searing pain of electricity coursing through me until I lost control of my body, the sickening scent of burning flesh as they pressed lit cigarettes into my skin. Once, when I'd fought back, they'd held me down, pouring hot wax over me before lashing me with barbed whips until I passed out. The only time I'd managed to bite one of them, they'd pried my mouth open and crushed a cigarette onto my tongue.
Now, Reagan's fingers tightened around my jaw, his eyes stormy. "What the hell are you babbling about?"
I flinched, certain he was about to burn me again, and shrieked.
Seeing me spiral, my parents rushed to call their private doctor. A sedative was forced into my system, but I fought the drowsiness, biting my lip hard. If I blacked out, worse things would happen.
The doctor's voice was grim. "Your daughter is showing severe trauma responses—clear signs of prolonged abuse. She's also malnourished. She needs immediate medical attention, both physically and psychologically. This is critical."
Renata cut him off sharply. "That's impossible! She was sent to a proper training facility—they took care of her!"
The doctor shook his head. "Miss, she's—"
Reagan's icy voice sliced through. "Enough. Dr. Williams, how much did she pay you to lie for her?" His gaze flicked to me, dripping with disgust. "The sedative isn't even working. She's faking it."
My father frowned. "Doctor, my daughter was at a reputable institution. They ensured her health and discipline. These claims are absurd."
My mother sighed. "Renesmee, when will you grow up?"
Renata sniffled dramatically. "Mom, Dad… she's worse than before! My head hurts just looking at her!"
Reagan seized my arm again. "Since you still haven't learned your lesson, back to the training center you go."
"No! Please, no! I'll do anything—just don't send me back!" I thrashed wildly, desperate to escape.
Reagan grabbed at me, but all he caught was my skirt—
It ripped.
And there, exposed for all to see, was my back—a grotesque tapestry of scars, raw and twisted.
End of They Chose the Impostor Over Me Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to They Chose the Impostor Over Me book page.