Princess of the Rogues

Just Another Day

Chapter 3

                I shot my eyes open waking from the terror my nightmare had brought to me. I sat up quickly pressing my head into my hands trying to rid the haunting nightmares that plagued my sleep. I felt the sweat pour down my forehead. I was physically shaking as I tried to regain a little self-control. I curled myself into a ball bringing my knees up towards my head and gripping onto them. I took deep breaths to try and get myself back to normality.

                If you can call this life normal.

                This was not a onetime thing. This was how I woke up every morning. This was the state I was in and nothing could change that. I would dream about my father’s beatings, the tortures and murder he makes me watch and our training sessions. I was scarred. I was mentally scarred and I think it was irreversible.

                I never let my emotions and my mental state show to anyone. To those other than my father, I came across as dominating and emotionless. No one knew that beneath the surface I was a terrified and scared mess. No one knew my real state. I felt like I was an elastic band. I have been pulled and hurt beyond the point I can go back to be a normal person. I will never be the same. It is only a matter of time until the band is pulled too much and I will break, either mentally or with my death.

                I finally felt myself stop shaking. I threw the covers from myself taking a note of the time. It was 5:30. My father wouldn’t be up for another hour and half. I shakily stood from my bed and walked over to the small shower in the caravan. I stripped from my pyjamas before having a quick shower. I then dried my hair so it was now perfectly straight down my back.

                I changed into some black leggings which I paired with some leather boots and a black vest top with a red netted kind of top over the top so you could still see the black top underneath. I checked my appearance before throwing on a leather coat. I walked out of the caravan and followed the smell of food.

                I needed something to eat. I felt weak and after my last traumatic nightmare I really needed some sugar in side of me. I walked over and found the tent where all the food was being made. It was a huge tent with a wooden pole in the middle that supported the whole thing. With the amount of rogues that needed feeding, we needed this big of a space.

                The whole camp was like a military operation. Everyone had a role that needed to be followed. This was how our camp was so functional. We had some medical tents and the food tents and the training tents. We were prepared for everything. This was how my father had been so successful in his campaign for domination.

                As soon as he started growing his group of rogues, the first thing he sorted was structure and organisation. This was where he started the foundations of the group of rogues. Everyone was organised. Things were planned. There were no surprises. Everyone knew where they fit in. This was how my father had managed to get so many rogues to work for him. This was why he was so powerful.

                I walked through the tent and past all of the tables. Some rogues were already there getting food and eating. I paid them no attention. My face was emotionless as always. They took a quick glance at me before going back to their food. I went up and served myself some beans and toast and a cup of tea with a load of sugar in it.