Autumn is beautiful here- in the middle of nowhere. The breeze is a bit cold though.
The breeze gets colder when someone's watching you.
There's eleven of us living in White Halo Manor. Day in, day out, we live the same day, every day, in glorious...
Sitting under the dark starless sky in front of White Halo Manor, I'm starting to understand I don't think I will ever understand why we have been put there. Here. Wherever 'here' or 'there' is. None of us understand. After being told it was part of the witness protection programme, I thought I would have been allowed to go back to her regular life in time.
I was wrong. So terribly wrong.
Because seven years later, me and the other eleven girls placed here still remain. There. Here. In a gated seven story manor in the middle of nowhere. Protected. But protection has never felt more like entrapment.
I don't care that we witnessed the death of our carer, Darren, no-one fucking cared. I don't understand why it was so huge.
The last time I could freely take a walk down the ruddy street that often had thugs dealing contraband was when I was twelve. When we were twelve.
Have they forgotten? Could they have forgotten about the twelve girls living at White Halo Manor?
I shook my head at the thought, glossy black strands falling in front of my face. Legs crossed on the concrete outside, I gazed into the darkness of the forest. It would be impossible because we still receive food, education, and a fully functioning house. But that's not the only reason.
Narrowing my eyes, I spot movement in the forest that makes my limbs stiffen. Probably just a raccoon or coyote. The moon has casted its glow on the ground in front of me, and through the trees. It's not much but I try to use it. Following the movement, I watch as it fades into the distance, my shoulders relaxing and fingers grazing the ground.
The Protectors are out there.
They haven't left, meaning that we have not been forgotten.
The Protectors of White Halo manor. The Protectors of the girls who are in need of protecting.
Staring off, hatred unfurls inside of me. Highly trained individuals responsible for all the brutality that happens under this roof. Their faces remain unseen still. Throughout the course of my life before the witness protection programme, I had found it easy to over power most people.
Make them lose control just to see how much I have over them. A smile touches my lips at the memories. Then falls at the reminder of the individuals who put an immediate halt to that.
The Protectors. The fucking protectors.
No-one has been deemed worthy of my respect or care. Fucking nobody. Everybody around me has never felt more than insignificant to me; they are just potential stepping stools to anything that I want. I realised that when I realised I don't think I could ever be loved. Anything remotely close to love I have experienced has been a ruse. A lie. A former cause of my pain.
I don't really experience pain anymore. I don't think many of us do. That weakness— the yearning for love I had — disappeared down the drain along with the respect and care I had for anyone, long ago. So now, no-one is worthy.
These protectors aren't worthy either though.
But what they are worthy of is my fear. I fear The Protectors like I fear relinquishing control. And it's agonising. I feel as though I've been cuffed. Permanently.
When they were first seen on the first day at White Halo Manor, they were in full gear, armed to the brim with weapons like they were about to deal with high risk prisoners. It was flattering. Strapped in black and rifles at their sides.
They enforced three rules.
Do not leave or attempt to.
Do not communicate with the outside world.
Do not go onto the third floor.
I wasn't sure how they would enforce them.
Then the first death happened. Cece Vespertine, twin sister of Maeve Vespertine. There was a loud bang of a bullet that echoed throughout the woods causing a flock of birds to emerge from a far area in the forest canopy. They squawked and their birds flapped. I watched it unfold. There was a small pinch of pain, low in my stomach which quickly dissipated.
Cece Vespertine was discovered the following morning, laid neatly before the forest in fresh sight for everyone. She was a gory sight. Gouged out eyes, blood soaked and a bullet in the middle of her forehead.
Us girls fought over who would discard the body. Nobody wanted to touch her, she was dirty, bloody and had flies all over. I had to pressed a fist to my lips to prevent myself from throwing up from the odour.
It was disgusting, but it awakened me.
That wouldn't be the only death. More occured, leading me to believe soon we all would be killed like pieces on a chess board. My fingers twitch at the thought of having to wait. It's torturous and makes my chest erupt with uncomfortability.
I will wait for my time. I will bide my time. Because when my time comes, I will fight tooth and nail. The Protectors would not take Zoya Yadav down easily. Whether it be one or all five.
This was life now.
Welcome to the witness protection programme. Are you enjoying it yet?
♔
-what do you think of our fmc?
-do we like the whole scary-house-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-vibe?
-what are your expectations?
sayonara my little dreamers <3
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