Eclipse

Chapter 11

★Massimo★

As I ran from the guards, a memory flashed in my head. One I tried my hardest to suppress. I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart pounding both from fear and overexertion. I wasn't ready to start running.

I glanced behind me, watching as the guard in front became farther and farther than before. The sounds of his feet hitting the concrete had gotten quieter to me. It surprised me that he got tired so quickly considering that this one was supposed to be one of the best. But it's not like there's another explanation other than being exhaustion. Another guard ran in front of him yet was much slower than he was to begin with. And much slower than I was.

Once again, from seeing the royal guard uniform, the red, black, and gold, an image flashed through my head. I shook my head violently, trying my hardest to rid myself of it. I didn't want to remember. Please.

I turned the corner onto another street. The guard behind me hadn't turned yet, so I knew I could go into an alley to get away. To hide. And that's what I did. I turned quickly, watching the corner where the guards would eventually appear, and I slipped into the alley. I looked around, trying to find somewhere to hide. I couldn't reach the rooftop so instead, I settled for a spot just under a pile of debris. It was propped up so there was just enough room for me to slide under. I steadied my breathing as I watched the entrance to the alley, looking at it past my feet.

The image flashed through my head once more. Robbie. Blood. Tears. I covered my eyes, rubbing them aggressively. I didn't want to see it! Not again!

But I was helpless to stop it. No matter what I attempted, the memory of Robbie wouldn't go away. And with nothing to do in that exact moment, nothing to focus on other than my own survival in the silence, the memory replayed in my head.

I was only 14 at the time. I rinsed the porcelain dish in the water before grabbing the hand towel and drying it. I set it down on the counter next to me and began on the next dish before the door slammed open. I jolted yet didn't turn to look at the cause of the sound. I knew who it was.

My father, not my real father, but the man that had taken me in, was now home. My family all had pale skin, quite the opposite of what I looked like. My skin was dark and brown. Their skin seemed as if it had never known the definition of warmth.

My father, whom I called by his name, Garret, walked into the room, standing silently by the door before closing it. I could feel his presence looming behind me as I washed another dish. I set my sponge down and gripped the counter, still feeling his eyes boring into my back.

Then, came his voice. "Tora." He paused, the silence filling the room like a serpent slithering my way. I knew what was happening, and that was probably the worst part about it all. The knowing, yet not being able to do anything about it. Being helpless despite knowing exactly what needs to change. I felt like a rat helplessly squirming after its backside had been crushed in a trap. There's nothing you can do, but you still want to try. "Look at me," the man behind me added on.

I turned on my heels, kept my hands next to me, fighting the urge to squeeze the sides of my dress with my fists. It was unladylike to be angry. I smiled brightly, hiding the discomfort from my face. Hiding the pure hatred and anger.

Garret stepped closer to me, his eyes melting into me. He looked me up and down, slowing at my breasts. The corners of his lips curled up in the slightest, showing the smallest hint of satisfaction. It was odd how one could hate happiness so much if only it came from the right person. At this moment, I wished the happiness were completely dead.

Garret stopped in front of me. He reached up, placed a hand in my tied-up curls. He tilted his head and smiled. "I love how curly your hair is. You know that?"