Forgive & Forget (Edited)

Chapter 2

Celeste's POV

6 years.

6 years.

One word changed my life 6 years ago.

Orphanage.

It's been 6 years since I last saw the people who I called family. 6 years since they left me abandoned, scared, and alone in an orphanage. 6 years since they last spoke or saw me. 6 years since the naive 10 year old girl they once knew died.

Celeste Amara Kingsley.

That was her name.

She was a little ball of sunshine who could brighten anyone's day. She was small, naive, weak, and dependent on her family. She had a perfect, happy family. Until they decided to give her up. Ever since that day, the little angel they once knew and loved, died and became something completely different, something no one thought she was ever capable of becoming.

People don't know the real pain and suffering she hides behind her mask. People don't know what she's been through to become what she is now.

People don't ask.

The only thing people know is that when her halo broke, she carved the two halves into horns.

That's me.

Celeste Cory King. I haven't been called Celeste in over 6 years though. A lot has happened, and none of it good.

Ok, that's a lie. Almost none of it good. I won't go into detail about whatever has happened to me, you'll get to know that later on, but I will tell you some things.

The girl I once was... well, she was weak, naive, and dependent on people. But not anymore. I'm strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I don't trust people easily. I don't depend or rely on anyone except myself. I keep my face blank when around people I don't trust and keep my guard up at all times.

I became a tattoo artist. I work in Devil's Black Ink. It's a tattoo parlor owned by Nyxon Stone. He's like an older brother to me. He's 27 years old and has the body of an underground fighter but the mind and humor of a complete child. He hired me to design some new tattoo designs when he saw my drawings. I have a passion for art. I soon started working on customers when I turned 12, the same age he hired me. I love my job and wouldn't trade it for the world.

When I turned 13, word had gotten out of a tattoo artist who's only 13 years old. Rumors went around the town saying that I started at 12 and that I'm really good at my job. Nyxon somehow encouraged me to open up my own shop and so I did. I opened up tattoo shops all around the world with Nyxon's help. He had enrolled me in online business classes. The courses were really easy, so I "graduated" from that class in just a couple of months.

Even though I don't do interviews or anything like that, everyone knows my name and age. However, not a lot of people know what I look like. They also know about my tattoos and piercings.

As for what I look like? Well, I used to have silver hair but I dyed it black and red. I'm 5'7, so I'm pretty tall. I have 42 tattoos and piercings all together, 21 tattoos and 21 piercings. I know it's a lot, but I don't just let people put permanent ink on my body for no reason. Every tattoo has a reason for why I got it. As for the piercings, I got them because they're cool and I like piercings.

Anyway, I have a small friend group. My friends and I are a really tight group. We've known each other for years, some longer than others. I don't know what I'd do without them. They're crazy idiots, but I love them. That's pretty much everything about me. Let's get back to the present shall we?

___________________

I turn off my alarm and lay in bed for a few minutes before sitting up and stretching. I live in an orphanage in Yakutsk, Russia. I escaped from that godforsaken orphanage I was abandoned in. I get out of bed and go take shower to wake myself up. I take out the simplest outfit I have and straighten my hair.