Two Souled Girl

Chapter 3: Red

Everyone's talking about how awful I am. How they always remind me that I'm not supposed to live. How I don't deserve to share the same oxygen with them. That I should be treated like a virus; a disease, a creeping insect, a pest that everyone must bound to hate.

I am mocked, and endured constant critisism. In an early age of 9, I was miserable enough to imagine how nice if I'm just dead. How happy it would makes me? I always thought that a coffin would be a great room to sleep, to rest, and to hide.

The world is cruel; the world is rotten; the world is evil.

I don't wish myself to be like this. I don't pray it either. To be someone who've got called the devil rather my name "Kristina", is funny more than annoying but get used to it now anyway. It's just merely funny how they praise me before, how almost perfect I am. Table really turns .

Yeah, my name is Kristina, derived from the word "Cristo or Christ". Grandmother is an active member of the church, she was known to be the most faithful elder in the city.

I think that's where she got my name and thought that it fitted me very much as she found me lying down the rugged of her door step accompanied with a goat, that's the first name came to her mind. She treat me as a blessing. She thought me every prayers she knew. How to use the holy rosary. How to bow down to the hand-made wood crafted god. We offer flowers, we offer ourselves. We offer our souls. We owe to be faithful forever.

It's sad now that grandma is too old to protect a weak child like me. She's always at home and there, I felt to be always loved, cared and protected despite of my creepy horns. She trated me to be her angel.

____ ____ ____

It was early in the morning, that was the time where prostitutes usually done for their job. I'm taking my way heading to the school when I hear something negatives. I stop for a minute behind the parked car and try to listen. They're talking, they're talking about me!

"I wonder if, what her parents looks like?" she heard from the woman with a skull tatoo on her arms.

"Horny goats?" the other one stated with a tone likely of a question, then their laugh were become even more louder, to the point that they are choking on their own happiness.

I smelled something was burning, like a match that was just recently incinerated; like a smoke of a candle but I chose to ignored it. My anger took over my whole body, a temptation to fight back. But there's a small voice in my head, keep saying "don't", repeatedly.

I felt giddy, I thought I already accepted that I'm a demon? But no.

And as any sane human would ever felt, I've felt angry. Very angry to the point that I can't supress my emotion anymore, I attacked those two prostitutes. Pushed the other one down to the floor without knowing it. It's like everything happened in a snap. I feel like I'm strong enough to fight. There I, standing in front of them, blood were flowing above me head, my horns were covered in red. I gently touch it, poring on it and I just realise, it's the most peacefull thing I've ever seen.

I can see on those two prostitute faces, they were startled in fear. The other one was terrified as she saw her friend lying in ground drench her own blood, snuffling. Pathetic, they should be praying now to save their souls. She dialed 911, calling the police and kept reffering me as 'the demon'. At the first time, calling me a demon feels great though. It's more like a compliment. It's like a crown that I have finally claimed.

The police have around, and surrounded me like I'm a most wanted murderer threat to the whole world. But still, I'm standing in the same place, dull and got no emotion. I want to laugh in overflowing joy. I want to burst in so much happiness. But I can't. I'm empty, like a porcelain doll without a soul and in any minute I'm going to shatter. I felt like someone was holding me, someone was controlling me like puppet.

They grabbed my hand, forcing me to get to the car. They headed me to the police station.

I was already in the hands of the police when I've got my senses back. I remember it all. I remember how did my horn sink into her stomach. The sound of ripping flesh and blood curdles. But here I am sitting beside the table; in front of the police, innocently. Like an adorable cat who've murdered a mice.

Grandma was there, she was on the other room talking to the police. Her face seems to be scared, lips look withered while her voice is obviously in a shaking tone. The police just nodded. I was definitely curious that time of what was the possible conversion is all about.

About half of an hour ago of waiting, they motion to my place. My grandma. She's unlikely of her, the one who is standing in front of me is different.

They force my hand to put it on my back, shackles it together and covered my eyes with a blindfold tightly. I can't see a thing. All I knew is that, I was damped in a pick-up truck and heading me to somewhere I don't know.

Somewhere I'm not familiar with.

***

Alvin Sarmiento

Author's Note

Sorry for the late update, it takes like 3days for me to create this whole part. I'm reconstracting the plot to make more thrilling (i hope so?) and mysterious.

Thank you for reading, although I don't have the most excellent grammar and the most interesting story here on wattpad, I hope you enjoy it. Just please vote and comment for feedback, it encourage me to make it better and write more. Anything such as critisism is welcome, to improve my writing skill. "We're not perfect anyway, we all sin" haha just kidding. I think it's okay to make a little (dont think so, big) failure to have a great stride of improvement.

And by the way, I'm not born with an english tounge so if you can see a little misspelled or misplace words, please don't expect perfections here. Just comment and I'm politely willing to accept and edit thank you :))

And I changed into 1st the narration instead of 3rd,