🌷 "We're Greek, Percy. We're all born with tragedy in our blood."
The only thing Daphne could ever be sure of was that she was not meant to be alive. Whatever you wanted to call it - a gut feeling or just some serious anxiety, she couldn't shake th...
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chapter XV 1 9 9 7 🌙
🌷 The deep winter nights were the worst parts when Daphne was alone.
She would shiver as her hair melted into the dark skyline behind her. Even with her one true possession, her pink ski coat which had already started to fray at the sleeves, she was freezing. Daphne had always been too susceptible to the cold, too vulnerable to frost. More than a few times she'd struck a fire in an alleyway to keep her warm and have to fend off the monsters which were attracted to it with no other choice. She might've frozen if it wasn't for the frosty embers which nipped her nose.
It was the twenty first of December, 1997. She knew this by looking at the date of one of the dropped newspapers and saved a coupon for half off of a stick of deodorant. It was the winter solstice, the darkest night of the year. Most abandoned clothes fit her young ten year old body.
Things can only get better from here on out, she promised herself. The nights will get shorter and the days will be more warm.
When she breathed, a misty fog of ice came from her mouth. If she could survive this night from the monsters, she would have a reason to be brave. A reason to survive and look for a forever home.
She caught her cold breath when a branch snapped from the entrance of the alleyway. She was frozen for a moment before she lunged, squeezing herself behind a big green dustbin without getting the chance to extinguish her fire she'd set with a pack of matches an old man had dropped. Daphne was too cold to think critically, her fingers raw to the bitter air as she fumbled for her silver knife she had strapped to her stomach beneath her layers.
Something dark flicked past her eyes and Daphne slipped, her knife clattering away from her grip. What ever It was, it came towards her, perhaps its teeth bared or venomous spikes sticking out to impale her. When she fell back, she recoiled into the ground, throwing her arms up over her head in case something came praying down on her.
I'm going to die, she told herself. She implored that it would be fast, but she didn't know who her prayers were being sent to. All Daphne knew was that monsters nobody else could see were after her, and she was crazy. At least she'd die before they sent her away to some sort of mad prison.
