Enslaved

Chapter 1

I stared longingly into the shattered mirror. I wished with all my heart I could become the girl I used to be. I wished I could be the girl I saw in the mirror, the girl with midnight black hair and staring emerald eyes. I see a tear run down the girl’s cheek and I burst into a sob. “No!” I grunt out through my flood of tears and waves of anger. I can't be this weak.

I grasped at the mirror, grabbing for one of the shards of glass. I ripped it off the back of the mirror and clutched it to my chest as if it were my lifeline. I felt my body heaving with emotion as I raised the glass to my chest, preparing to impale myself through the stomach. I had to end it, the constant suffering and tormenting.    

“Stop! Put the weapon down, or you know what will happen!” The voice whispered hoarsely inside my head.          

I scream, throwing the shard of glass across the bathroom. “No! Stop! Please! Just kill me already!” I shrieked into the empty bathroom, banging my head against the tiled wall.              

I could feel the air curdle with anger and I shivered involuntarily. “If you insist.”   Immediately after it spoke I began dry gagging. I fell into the tile ground, shaking uncontrollably. My lungs seemed to have abandoned me, leaving an eternally painful fire burning in their place. I went blind for a moment, and then images of my parents fluttered into my vision. Their faces where screwed up in horrendous pain as their souls where sucked from them. Their voices cried out to me for help, but I couldn't move. I watched in horror as they were tortured, and then their lifeless corpses fell to the ground. All I did was stand there, and watch.   

“Stop! Stop! Please!” I manage to regain my voice and plead for mercy.

          “Have you learned your lesson? Will you continue to resist our…deal?”

          The physical pain in my body gotten a thousand times worse when its voice spoke, but I managed to choke out a reply: “No! I've learned! Please – just stop!” My voice rasped out, barely audible. The thing must have heard me, though, because immediately the pain started to subside. I lay on the cement ground, my body quivering and convulsing as the agony left me. 

“Good choice.” The raspy voice murmured, already fading away.

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"How much to 2131 East View Road?” I asked the cab driver as I climbed into the backseat.              

The driver messed around with the GPS for a minute and did a few calculations before saying “Twenty Seven dollars, plus tip.” I counted the crumbled up bills that I clutched in my hands.

“I have twenty three. Take me as close as that can get me.” The driver nodded and I got in, settling down for what I hoped would be a long ride.           

All too soon, though, the driver pulled up to the curb, still quite a distance from my current home. “This is as far as twenty three will take you.” I sigh and hand him my wad of allowance money.        

          "Thanks."  I mutter and I slam the cab door behind me. I watch the cab drive away and I stand staring down the road. This was going to be a long walk.         

Five miles and a whole mouthful of cursing later, I arrive at the driveway of my foster home. It's small, but friendly, with white paint on the house and pink flowers in the garden. It was the classic American home. I groan silently as I make my way around the side of the house and in the back door. This way Tammy might not notice me coming in…           

“Peyton, where have you been?!” My foster mom, Tammy, exclaimed when I walked in. I had already given the cabbie my only remaining allowance money and trudged the 5 miles to reach the house, and this is the welcoming committee?            

I was about to snap back some clever remark when its voice slithered its way into my head, whispering. “Don’t be rude. Tell her exactly where you were and what you were doing.”            

I swallowed my thoughts and feelings, hissing out through clenched teeth, “The city.”          

“Be more specific.”  The voice urged in my head, painfully calm.            

“Where, in the city, exactly?” Tammy questioned.

 I shivered, realizing that my foster mom and the thing were both wanting me to do the same thing.         

“Uh, I went for a run around North Side and hung out at the gas station.”            

“Good...” Its voice praised my compliance to its command.            

“Peyton!” Tammy shouted, and I could feel the thing slinking out of my brain, just in time to get me in trouble. “You know I told you to never go to North Side! You don’t understand what kind of things happen there! Why would you think it acceptable to go there after I told you time and time again not to?”             

I moaned internally. “I didn't think it was acceptable. I went there because you told me not to.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared defiantly at her.            

"You're grounded! Give me your phone and T.V. remote right now!"          

"Whatever." I say in a deadpan tone and stomp down the short hallway to my bedroom. This was going to be a long weekend.             

I fell onto my bed and stared at my white ceiling. I had an average sized room, with white carpet and yellow walls. My twin bed was pushed up against the far wall, covered in a shaggy light blue comforter. A white dresser, desk and folding chair were placed on the far wall, the desk and folding chair both covered in late homework. There was a closet set into the wall at the foot of my bed, filled with typical teen clothes.

I didn't care. None of it was mine. I don't know who I am anymore. I can't live my own life while I was in constant fear that I'll lose it, or someone will get hurt, or worse. I'm not in control of myself or my actions. Who I used to be and who I am - two completely different people. And I have no idea how to make them the same again.        

"You can't."  The voice murmurs devilishly into my mind.