I feel the sunlight hitting my face through the window. I must have forgotten to shut the blinds. I roll over to get up only to be reminded of yesterday. The lashes on my back burn as I put weight on them. I hiss in pain and try to shoot up, but the stitch in my side causes me to fall back down. I forgot about the manticore and my carelessness. Once the pain dulls, I manage to roll off the bed and head towards my bathroom to shower.
I might have been abused and neglected, but I've never had to want for any materialistic things. I have a beautiful room with a comfy bed and reading nook. I have my own personal en-suite with a giant shower and tub. It will be the only thing I miss when I get out of this hellhole.
I hop in the white tiled shower. Everything in my room and bathroom is white. As if the pureness of the room will make up for the evil intent of my existence. I watch as the red tinted water goes down the drain splattering against the white tiles. Some days it's all too white, but other days I find it comforting. A distraction from my reality. Once my wounds are numb, I hop out and gently pat myself dry before throwing on a loose T-shirt and black sweat pants. The T-shirt used to be my mom's. It's a faded black shirt with an even more faded white rose on the front. Over the years, with the countless washes it's lost my mother's smell. But if I close my eyes and picture her just right, I smell the faint scent of rain followed by the sweetness of honey. A wave of emotions flows through me as memories flood my mind. My mother was the most beautiful and caring person I have ever met, even before I was allowed outside for missions. She was without a doubt the best mother out of my group and probably all the previous groups as well.
Every group consisted of nine women who each bore a child. That usually meant nine sons, but my group was the first to produce a daughter. My father would hand pick a young woman from each different specie except for the Elves, but honestly no one knows if they even exist. The mothers would then raise their child for six years, before they were shot in front of children on their sixth birthday. A lot of the children shut down after that. They would go into a depressive shock or a destructive rage which would lead to their deaths. My emotions were a mix between the two: my rage fueled my vengeance while my shock kept me calm. That was my first taste of emotional trauma and unfortunately not my last. Usually after the grueling task on their twelfth birthday, there wasn't a child left, so ever thirteen years this cycle would repeat, until me. I completed the task and made it well beyond thirteen years. I feel my body start to tremble as flashes of my twelfth birthday blur my vision. Swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise, I shake my head before clearing my thoughts.
I slowly walk back to my room careful of my injuries. I make my way to my reading nook which is in the furthest corner from the door. The whole corner is a giant window with a padded bench floating from the floor. On either side are jutted out tall bookcases which makes the seat feel almost like a box letting me hide away from the world. The bookcases house all of my sanity and escapes. Books bring me peace and visions of how my life should have been. Maybe one of the books will be my future. Sighing, I pick up my book and cuddle into my corner with a fluffy blanket. I look out the window and view the bright blue sky and tops of the dense trees that poke their way out from the twelve foot wall surrounding the house. I have yet to conclude whether it's meant to keep me in or something out. Giving my attention back to my book, I get lost in another reality where pain and loneliness don't exist.
Eventually the pages turn into chapters and the sun gets lower in the sky. I usually don't leave my room too often, unless it's to train or prepare, but I know I need to get something to eat. I need to make sure I am good to go in the morning because right after I attack the Vampires, I have to make my way to the Witches' coven. They are only a day's worth of traveling apart so I won't be returning home for a few days.
I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. Before I go in, I hear rummaging through the pantry causing me to pause and sniff the air. Once I confirm it's Alistair, I barge in and see what he has come up with to eat. Eyeing the pack of chocolate in his hands, I reach out to grab them only to have my arm twisted behind my back.
"Not so fast Nightshade."
Alistair chuckles at me as he gently holds my arm behind me. I glare over my shoulder before shifting my weight forward and using my knees to toss him over me. He lands with a thud in the middle of the pantry but still clutching the chocolate.
"Please, Alistair. I haven't had anything to eat."
He gives me an incredulous look before stuffing the chocolate in his mouth and making his way around me and out of the pantry.
"You aren't going to have any energy at all if you only plan to eat chocolate."
He gently scolds me as he starts to prepare a meal for me. Soon the aroma of pasta and tomatoes hits my nose and I nearly moan at the intoxicating scent. I can't wait to taste it.