The blood stains orange

Sataine

Sataine: 

She didn't mean to kill him.

Satine had never been violent. She was a normal kid, went to school, made friends, killed someone...

That sequence had played over and over in her mind relentlessly. She's only 12 turning 13 in a month yet has suffered something unbearable.

- 

(1 year ago)

"She was just out of school gentle wind blowing on her tired face. A sense of freedom lingered over her and best friend Sia as they sluggishly walked out of school.

Suddenly hard stomps earthquaked behind them, the flying happiness fell into a pit of dread with the ever growing gravity.  

'oooooh sloppy Sia and her friend Satin.' The gruff voice came closer breathing a warm sticky sent on the back of Satine's neck.

'Umm it's Satine actually.' She murmured with no hope of anyone receiving her bare speech.

She felt Sia brush against her hip. She's been pushed to the floor. Her blood boiled. arms shaking. 

Say what ever you want to Satine. But not her friends.

She turned around and grabbed the horrid boy by the thought.

-

(present) 

Sia hadn't spoken to her since. Next week started starting fires. She ran away after killing her family, to Tokenburg where she lived alone. Desperately trying to understand and control her powers." a and that's my story. She had forgotten of the eyes watching her speak as she had gone though it in her mind thousands of times. She knew the script. 

Satine stared into the dancing flames her bight aqua eyes with shadows of red reflecting in them seemed tired. Her wavy dandelion hair sending ripples in the time stopping wind. 

The older boy let out a burst of air. "Jease that's rough. Okie lets go to bed." The mysterious girl hadn't spoken yet but went to bed with not a word uttered. Yet her blue eyes identical to Satine's had been x-raying her since Satine had admitted who she really was. 

She had to prove to this untrusting girl she was an orange.

Grabbing the knife Satine pricked her finger exposing the colour that had haunted both these girls. Patting Tallie's cold body with her fist pressuring the cut, dead yet vibrant eyes met hers. 

Satine rubbed a line of orange past on Tallies forehead. Tallie cut her hand with a needle from her tent and did the same to Satine. 

Trust.