Here

~I~

  "My silence is another word for my pain."

  The sky has gone grey and dark, and the sun has already set, bidding farewell to Steagen. She sat, motionless, unblinking.

  "Go die." Pain shot up to her gut as a voice echoed in her mind. It was relentless, eating her own self away, laughing at her in full mockery.

  Her head hurt. Her mind went blank for awhile, but the voice always returned back to her mind. It hunted her bitterly. She lay on the bed, broken, sweating, her whole body trembling with beads if perspiration rolling down her skin.
 
  The pain was followed be exhaustion. Steagen felt faint, and her body urged her to sleep, but she pushed that thought away forcefully. When she wakes up from her slumber, the pain would only wash her anew, slamming into her like poison.

  Steagen glanced at the digital clock, squinting at the dim light of the red numbers in her dark, messy bedroom. It was already past mindnight, and her eyes stung with tiredness, but she was determined to stay awake the whole night. She didn't care if it deteriorated her health or whatever bullshit consequences that would come.

  Scenes flashed in her mind once again. Guilt, but also a hidden pleasure within. A sickening sadistic pleasure, covered with the pitiful guilt.

  That's what betrayal is, isn't it--?

  The night sky was dull, starless, the moon faint, with only clouds looming over as if rain was going to pour out of them any second. It was a night which resembled the darkness in Steagen's eyes.

  Something fluttered outside her shut windows, cawing rawly. A bird? A crow. It was ugly, its black feathers camouflaging perfectly in the night, its huge eyes scanning the ground below.

  A crow. It looks just like pain itself.

  Steagen wondered why there was a crow at this time. Its eyes glinted, and it circled the sky overhead. It kept on cawing, almost like laughing at Steagen.

  "What a racket it's making, isn't it?" A soft whisper, barely audible, sounded behind Steagen and into her ears. She turned around, but was only greeted be darkness and the disastrous state of the room.

  She didn't believe in ghosts, or demons, or any supernatural beliefs. The more horror movies she watched, the more amused she felt. While people were screaming away as they hugged their pillows and covered their eyes, Steagen's eyes were glued to the screen, staring straight at actor whose face was thick with make-up. In haunted houses, when a terrifying man jumps in front of her, the people who accompanied her would shriek and scramble away. But she would stand straight and still, her eyes looking straight at the man's. It could only end with a funny awkwardness.

  It was a problem. Neither strange nor scary things scared her, and that's why people called her unusual. They thought there was somehing wrong with her -- "Are you intellectually disabled? There must be something wrong with her." "Eww, you spoil all the fun. Go away."

  Steagen had a hard time fitting in. She didn't mind, though. She didn't try. Only one person to lend a helping hand.

  Nobody did that. Not even her parents, who abandoned her ruthlessly and threw her into an abusive orphanage. Thank the Gods that she managed to get the heck out of there just two days ago and live alone in a small compartment, with a puny amount of money given every week by the orphanage.

  Nerene had a heart of gold. She was impossibly kind to anyone, smart, and was beautiful with snow white skin. Many called her an angel.

  She might just be Steagen's only friend. She didn't tease about her weird name, or about her strange personality, or her anti-socialness. She was like a guardian angel.

  Then everything made a sharp and stabbing pain for the worst of the worst. "Choose her or us,' the words echoes in her head as a scene relived in her eyes. There Nerene was, her back facing her, walking away and being engulfed in darkness until her silhouette completely disappeared.

  Steagen was once again alone.

  Something snapped her thoughts out of her head. It was a sound, brittle and hard. The cawing of a ravenous crow.
 
  She flicked her eyebrows up and craned her neck to stare at the ceiling. There the crow was, looming and circling over her, its constantly moving shadow dancing around the room walls.

  She cocked her head to one side. "Oh."