Amara

Chapter 8 - Decision

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"We are all living in cages with the door open"

- George Lucas

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Salvatore's POV:

She's perfect. And I hate having to leave her in that place. She should be with me. And she should be coming home with me right now. Maybe I should have threatened them.

But I didn't want to force her to come with me. I want her to come with me because she wants to. But how is the Devil meant to show love and affection? When his whole life he was taught that love destroys.

Amara's POV:

It's been a couple of hours since the meeting. And I don't know what to think.

I was scared when he first walked through the door. But then something about me became more and more comfortable around him. But what if he's like him? What if he cares about me, to begin with, and then one day turns?

The day my mom and stepdad did that to me, I broke. Literally and figuratively. I was 6, waiting to be picked up after school. But nobody came. It was November and it had already started snowing in Chicago. But because it was so late they had closed the school, without a second thought that I would have no shelter. School finished at 3, and my stepdad picked me up at 7. Naturally, I was annoyed, stomping my feet and pouting my lip. The ride back to the house wasn't long, just long enough to where six-year-old me couldn't walk it alone.

When we got back into the house I carried on with the attitude. My mom told me to stop, but I was annoyed and refused to give up. I was too young to think that maybe both of them were busy, or that something could have happened. Luke got that annoyed with me and picked me up off of my place on the floor dragging me by my arm.

Naturally, I began kicking and screaming. Trying to get him off of me. My behaviour angered him more. He shoved me by my back, trying to get me to move. Resulting in me falling forward onto the table and breaking my arm.

Rather than care for me, and take me to the hospital. He told me that I got what I deserved. But that isn't the worst of what I remember. It was my mom's lack of a reaction that broke me. She had never really been the loving mother that I hoped for. But if I was hurt she would still look after me. She would stop me from crying by caressing my back and stroking my hair. But that day. That day she looked at me on the floor, crying. I was screaming for her to help me. But my efforts were futile.

It took them a week to take me to the hospital. The doctors were sceptical at first but then dismissed their thoughts once they spoke to my 'loving stepdad'. I wonder what my life would be like if I had spoken out. Told a doctor what had happened. Or maybe if a doctor had realised that this wasn't entirely accidental.

After dinner, I went back to my room. Still unsure of my answer, hoping that maybe some more time alone will help me decide what I should do with my life. I head up the stairs. My head throbbing. As I reach the top, I move my body to turn the corner, but rather I'm pulled into a dark room next to me, by two arms that are grabbing mine.

The light switch is turned on. And as my eyes adjust I'm met with the face of the girl from the previous night. Since then I have learnt that the alpha bitch is called Ava. I'm yet to know to know the names of her little group though.

I try to shove the girl who at grabbing me but give up in the hope that they will let me go soon. In the room, there are six of us. Quite cramped, but at this moment in time that isn't what is concerning me.