The Rosy Hours

Chapter Five - Violated

My stocking feet had been calloused by walking around sock and shoeless indoors for most of my life, but still the roots of the oak trees and the rocks that littered the forest floor scraped and bloodied my feet.

I had not in my flight thought of bringing anything to keep the chill off of me either, but I was very thankful for the many layers of my dress, despite the fact that the fashion was highly impractical for the trek that I was now taking.

Branches snagged at my hemline and I pondered taking my dress off entirely but I didn't want to forsake absolutely everything my mother had taught me... Not right off the bat at least.

For days I walked alone, sleeping under the stars, and feeling freedom's beckoning call. It was easy to ignore my hunger at first as eating had been forced upon me as a punishment. I would frequently punish my mother right back by refusing to eat.

That was before I had known true hunger. The gnawing demon that writhed around in my stomach pushing all reasonable thoughts out of my head.

Faintness was over taking me when at last I came upon the sounds of civilization.

People!

My first thought was to hide, but then I realized they must be getting their food from somewhere...

I had never stolen anything before... and these people had done nothing to me, but my growling stomach soon drove me to near madness, and as the sun slunk over the horizon I crept out of the shadows...

My hand has just clasped around a juicy red apple when a hand tightly clasped my wrist.

"I caught you red-handed you little thief! Show your face you little scoundrel!"

"No monsieur please!" I exclaimed, dropping the apple as if it burned me.

"Javert, Come see what we've got here!" he shouted.

I sank my teeth into the man's arm and he shrieked, as I turned to run away from the Romani camp.

Unfortunately, the man's calls had drawn the attention of others, and they scampered out of their vans.

"Show your face you little demon!" someone shrieked as they surrounded me.

"No! No!" I exclaimed.

The mask was cruelly ripped from my face and the crowd trembled, a few ran off to expel what they had recently eaten.

"Well, well, she'll fit in here nicely with the rest of the freaks."

The man dropped my mask on the door and walked away. "Oh just wait till the crowd sees her. We'll make a fortune!"

I rushed to leave snatching up my mask on the way.

I was stopped as a curvaceous woman blocked my path. Her hands on her hips.

"Leave her be! Can't you see that the poor thing is frightened?" She scolded.

I looked up at my saviour as the gypsy men left back to their camps and nearly gasped at what I saw. The ebony skinned woman had dark facial hair that covered her chin.

A bearded lady.

"Come along dear, those men won't bother you if you stick close."

She grabbed the apple and tossed it at me. I caught it and took her hand as she led me to her tent.

"Now you certainly don't seem like the average run away, little one." She glanced over my clothes. "You are too rich--middle class I'd bet. So, you were abused?"

Her brown eyes took me in. She frowned, dark brows furrowing.

"Your face? Is that why you ran away."

I averted my eyes and ate my apple.

"Well no matter, you're safe here. Just stick with me."

So I did.

Madame Julia was her name, and she was the closest thing to a mother that I had. It was so nice to have someone who understood what I had gone through. At least, partly.

She was plain spoken, did not mince her words. I was allowed to stay in the camp as long as I worked, though the ringmaster's definition of work and mine was very different.

I was nothing more to him than a human oddity. A freak.

My stage was a cage. I suppose they wanted me to look more feral, wild. Sensational. The living corpse!

They bedecked my stage with a little coffin, and shaved my head bald to add to the already impressive skull-like head I had.

Their cruelty added to the simmering flame of hatred that already had taken place in my heart.

A living corpse and a bearded lady. Not the typical family.

Though the Romani people were harsh realists, I learned many a valuable skill from them.

Lockpicking, slight of hand, pickpocketing. I was able to pursue music,science. New avenues to life that I had previously thought impossible. In short, I was fairly happy with my treatment, though I longed for a day that I would mean more than my deformity.

There was a man, a wicked one, who would sneak around the camp late at night.

Julia had warned me not to go out at night, not alone. But I had wanted to see what the city looked like at night.

That night was the night of my first kill. Granted, it was in a form of self defence. I regreted nothing. That disgusting man... Javert followed me down an alley and when he refused to leave me alone- and attempted to take something very precious from me... I buried my dagger up to the hilt, in his stomach.

Covered in blood and trembling from what had almost occured, I made my way back to camp keeping to the shadows.

Julia was awaiting my return. She must have been worried sick.

"Where were you?" She asked as I pulled back the tent flap.

Tears streamed down my face, "You warned me but I didn't listen..."

"Kiera, who's blood is that?" she asked calmly.

"It-It's not mine."

Realization dawned on her face.

"Javert... that perverted creep," she snarled.

"He won't be attacking any more women," I muttered, staring down at the bloody knife in my hand.

"Kiera...You have to leave." She frowned, rapidly packing me a bag. "If they find you they will kill you."

I gasped.

"Take my horse, ride to the ocean, board a ship. Leave this place. Dress as a boy, you'll raise less suspicion."

"Thank you." I exclaimed as she pulled me into a hug.

"You can thank me by living. Now go!"

The black mare rode through the night like a shadow, carrying me to safety.