(1)
"MAMA!" I scream, watching as her bloodshot eyes meet mine for the very last time.
I need to save this image. Save her in my mind. Her tear stained cheeks- No. Her rosy cheeks. Her beautiful smile and her light laugh that reminds me of summer.
Sundresses and games and picnics and the sun. That's my mom. That's who she is.
"NO!"
You sit bolt upright in a matter of seconds, sweat staining your sweatshirt and hair sticking to your forehead. The memories are too much to handle; they haunt you every time you go to sleep.
It wasn't right.
At five years old, watching your mother being brutally murdered isn't right. It should never happen, ever, to anyone. But it happened to you. And there's nothing you can do to change that fact, all you can do it accept it.
Lowering your feet down on the cold, wood floor, you try to make as little sound as possible. Your night dress hangs loosely off of your small shoulders, and your arms are so thin, most people are afraid to touch you in fear of breaking you into pieces. (Your eye colour) eyes dull, and delicate fingers tracing along the walls as you walk down to the kitchen.
As you fill up the glass of water, your expression remains blank, just how it always is. Your body trembles slightly from the weakness of your steps. You're not anorexic, but you just don't want them to know you want anything from them. Because you don't. So you don't eat anything they give you, instead you find what you can when you manage to sneak out.
You're eleven now. Old enough to climb out of a window, at least.
"Y/N..."
You jump slightly at the sudden shock of the lady's voice, the sound echoing through your ears. You manage to regain your posture, turning to face her.
Rule number one, don't let them see you eat. Rule number two, don't let them hear you talk. Rule number three, don't let them see you smile. Rule number four, don't let them see you at all. If possible.
"What are you doing up?" Katherine questions, glancing at her cracked watch briefly.
Your eyes flicker down to the cup, and you hold it out to her, as your way of telling her. She hesitates, before nodding, turning to face the staircase again.
"Get some sleep, sweetie," her smile sickens you, "Tomorrow is adoption day!"
The worst day of the week.
~*~
THIS IS JUST PART ONE. The introuction. All in all, there will be about seven parts.
It's short, I know, but it's the best I can do for now :)
AND if you haven't already noticed, I UNTICKED THE BOX.
This book is no longer 'completed'. It is back to being ongoing.
:D
