From the time I was born until the day I died, they always said I had the fire of a dragon. I was born in the year of the Dragon, with ice pick blue eyes and blood red hair. Angel kisses fluttering my body, and a temper of a hell hound. Life was no match for me even as a young babe.
We all come out of the womb kicking and screaming, but not many can say they killed their mother in the process. My blood parents were Russian, but my adopted ones were American. My father couldn't stand to look at his baby girl after she had killed her mother in child birth, so he gave me to his cousins in America. Did I ever know my father? No, and for that I am glad. A few months after he gave me away like unwanted trash he was shot down by the Russian Mob.
Brown eyes and blonde hair my adopted parents were. I couldn't have been more opposite of them, but they loved me. Truly loved and cared for me like my blood never could. We lived in Portland, Oregon. Busy, beautiful, and a great place for a dragons den to hide.
I knew we were different. There was always a hushed whisper in the house. A secret that you wanted to grab so hard and never let go of. A secret that defined my family. We will get to that later. I want someone to know exactly who I was and what made me the Scarlet Dragon.
YOU ARE READING
Scarlet Dragon
Random18 years of age and older!! Scarlet tells her life story first hand on her death bed. This story is full of fantasy, passion, and pain.
