Welcome To My World

Before the Fall

    I wasn't always like this. A freak of nature, running from the law with nothing but a cape, hated by everyone except a cat and a boy with one foot in the grave. I never planned on this. It was all an accident... You don't believe me, do you? Well, who would? At least, not without hearing the full story. 

    Alright. That's the real reason you're here, isn't it? Well, fine. I'll happily oblige. But first, let's start at the beginning.

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    It started when I was about five.

    I shuffled down the narrow hallway, voices getting louder as I near the end. The dark wood paneling creeks softly under my feet. A small, stuffed pink mouse is clutched against my chest and signs of tears resided on my cheeks. At the threshold, a worn sunshine yellow couch emerged from my right, a small kitchen on my left. Four adults sit on the couch as the TV blares deafeningly. I take a shaky breath before speaking. 

    "Mama?" I yelped, shifting my weight and adjusting my night gown. 

    The adults all spun around, shocked to see a such a young child awake close to midnight. I scanned the faces until I saw my mother on the end. Her cognac eyes glared at me under her greasy peanut mat of shoulder length hair. She stood and stalked over to me. 

    "What is it? Why are you out here?" She hissed, tugging me slightly more into the hallway, covering me from the view of her visitors. Her grip on my upper arm dug into my skin. I tried to to gag at the scent coming from her mouth. 

    "I had a bad dream." My voice whined a bit, as it did when I lied. I tried to reason with myself. That was technically the reason I had woken up, just not the reason that I had come out. 

    Am I the only one that does that? Rationalizing a lie and justifying it to myself? I didn't lie well when I was younger, especially to my mom. That woman was freaking terrifying. 

    "How is that my fault?" She rose to her full hight and crossed her arms. "Now get back in your room and stay there." 

    Rude, right? That was her being kind. She was never like that when... When my father was home. 

    I nodded and scampered back to my room, clutching the stuffed mouse tighter. Tears started streaming down my face as I clicked the door shut quietly behind me. Clamoring into bed, I shut the lamp off and looked at my only toy. 

    "Don't worry, Petunia. Daddy will be back any day now. Things'll be better then." 

    Shutting my eyes as the tears fell more rapidly, I heard strange sounds echo through my room. In the direction of the window, I thought I heard voices, as I had when I woke from my nightmare. 

    "Are you sure?" The voice sounded dry, masculine. 

    "I'm positive. She doesn't 'ave it. 'er room wouldn't be doing zat if she did." The second voice 

    "Then who has it? We were told that it's in this family." 

    "We'll 'ave to watch her, find out ooh 'as it. THEN we strike. If it is my old friend, zen zis will be fun, indeed." 

    Laughter sounded from the window as I slipped into sleep. 

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    Brushing my hickory brown hair quickly into a ponytail, I bounced in place in front of my broken mirror. My clothes hung strangely on my eight year old body, but I didn't have a care. I look at the worn pink mouse on my bedside table.