It's Okay to be Different

10

A/N: This is still a Mitch flashback of his past. I dont want people getting confused because both Mitch and Scott are interacting with Alex at this point.

Today is the day that I get out of this empty cell. For the past two weeks I've sat in the same spot, in the middle of the floor, waiting. He was generous and gave me an abundance of books to pass the time. He even slid a clock with the time and date on it so I could have a sense of time.

He's not completely evil... just ill-minded.

"Who's ill-minded?" Alex taunts as the cell door gets thrown open. "I think you forget sometimes, Mitchie, that I can hear everything. Even the thoughts that don't get thought of."

"I'm sorry." I murmur.

"I brought you something." He smirks. I know exactly what he's about to do. "Remember, one wrong move and... You're dead."

Four people walk into the cell behind him. Two women, a man, and a child. A baby. He's taunting me with a baby. A small, rosey cheeked... blood.

The familiar pair of hands meet the sides of my face and the same pain shoots down my entire spine, making me scream before I black out.

And then I'm awake again. My neck still tingling. The mortals look terrified.

I learn very quickly to control my thoughts. 183 deaths later, my mouth and mind are silent as the four mortals are forced to sit around me and I'm reading a book. Alex watches silently from the doorway of he cell.

"Good boy, Mitch. You can come out now." He says and I get up without a word and brush past him on my way out. I walk up the stairs and to the living room, plopping myself down on the couch.

Time Skip: 160 years later-2000

"Mitch?" I hear Alex call my name from downstairs.

"Yes, sir?" I call as I bound down the stairs.

"I made a mess. Clean it." I spot three mortals, drained of their blood, laying in the living room.

Somewhere along the way, I became Alex's maid. He told me that's all I'm good for. Cleaning up after other people's messes. And after looking into those gorgeous eyes, I believed him.

I quickly went to grab a body to dispose of.

"Make sure they don't drip on my carpet, Mitch."

But as soon as the words left his mouth, a drop of blood from the mortal in my hands fell on his carpet.

"GOD DAMNIT MITCH!" He screams at me.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll clean it up right away." 'It's not like you have to clean it.'

I feel something extremely sharp slice against the skin on the side of my face.

It's burning. It burns so bad I want to scream. But I know screaming will only make him angrier. I see my own blood dripping onto my eyelashes and then my pants.

"I CAN HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS YOU SARCASTIC LITTLE BITCH!" He takes a deep breath. "You disgust me. Get out of my sight." He murmurs and I do just that. I bolt up the stairs without using my speed. He hates when I do that in the house.

I immediately go to the bathroom to inspect my face.

There is a large gash on the side of my face from right over my eyebrow to my cheekbone. It's bleeding profusely. What the hell did he use to do this?

"Mitch?" I hear Alex right outside the door.

"Yes, sir?" I reply.

"Let me in, this is important."

I open the door and he is standing there, staring at me. Neither of us say anything. We just stand there in complete silence.

"I'm sorry." he says. I just nod my head in response. "But um... There is some news that I should tell you. I know it's been 160 years. But I feel like now is the time to tell you."

I follow him to his bedroom and sit on his bed. "What is it, sir?" I ask politely.

"You are a lot more important than I've given you credit for. The reason why I didn't kill you 160 years ago is because as soon as I tasted your blood, I knew you were special. Powerful. Like me. You're an ancestor of a powerful vampire. One of the most powerful vampires on the planet. You're not just good for cleaning up other people's messes. You're so strong. I was scared. Because with the right training, you could be stronger than me."

I just stare at him in awe. I'm not trash. I actually have a meaning. And he's kept me here... "Can I leave?" I ask calmly.

"What kind of leave? Leave this conversation or leave this house?"

"The house. You. This life." I mutter. "You hurt me today. You hurt me last week. You've hurt me for the past 160 years! You killed me 183 times and brought me back to life for what!? TO TEACH ME A LESSON ABOUT 'SELF CONTROL'! YOU'VE DONE NOTHING BUT HURT ME! YOU RAPED ME BEFORE YOU KILLED ME! I WAS MAJORING IN PERFORMING ARTS! I WAS GOING TO WRITE MUSIC! I WAS GOING TO SING! I WAS GOING TO HAVE A LIFE! YOU RUINED MY LIFE BECAUSE I'M 'IMPORTANT'!? FUCK YOU ALEX! IM LEAVING!" I've never screamed at Alex. Ever. He just took it. He looked ashamed of himself. He should be ashamed. He took an innocent 20 year old's life.

I grab the small amount of belonging that I have and walk out the front door.

"You're going to regret leaving." I hear his voice behind me.

Without turning around, I speak two simple words: "Fuck you." And I use my speed to run far, far away.

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