Nobody was there, but was I allowed to hope that nobody had seen me? No, of course not. Even if there was a chance that I was safe, I couldn't risk it. They would be there that night. I knew they would.
That was the way the world worked. It was their fault I was in that mess, meaning they gave themselves a reason to add me to their list. It was horribly cruel, but they couldn't care less about that. All they cared about was that it was effective and it presented them with their victims when they needed it. At least they weren't all as bad as the hunters, though if you considered the people who gathered around the streets at night to be a group then you would find quite a few hunters involved. Some of them liked to keep to themselves and do their own thing, which was good for me, as that way they didn't bother us.
I was never quite sure how a hunter decided what they wanted to be. Maybe it was passed down from parents, though if that was the case that would be horrible. To expose a child to the normal world was bad enough, but to raise a child to learn that there was nothing better than the pure though of killing the people that could've helped you in the future. To learn nothing more than that they were the predators, and we were the prey. They would have no chance to be different. At least we had the chance.
I hurried inside before the flashbacks came. It was already bad enough that I had freaked out in the middle of the street, and I didn't want anybody to see me become completely defenseless. Because as long as I'm aware of my surroundings, you can break down the wall but you can't get past the cage that I keep myself locked in. As soon as I start to lose my grip on everything, the cage door opens, and I have to hope that the wall stands it's ground.
I'd always been good at keeping myself away from others when things started to get rough, and the old memories came up again. The only person who had ever seen me when I was in a flashback was my mother, and she was normally the one that helped me calm down. I pushed myself through the front door into the main living room. I almost fell on the old couch and rested my head on the arm rests. It was slowly getting harder tol breathe, and I felt as though smoke was clouding my lungs, making it's way through my throat and burning my eyes. The light that was shining through the window started to become dim, and everything was slowly starting to get blurry. Where was my mother? Wasn't she supposed to be there with me? Wasn't she supposed to help me? But nobody could help me, and nobody could erase the past. Those were my last thoughts as I slowly closed my eyes and woke up in a new scene.
~-:-:-~
It started out as a fairly good day. The sun was out, and it wasn't too warm. I didn't have school, as it was a Saturday. I should have expected it to end badly, because all good days do.
I have few memories of my father, though I do remember how bright his eyes were when he smiled. He had green eyes, like I do, except they didn't change like mine did. They knew what they were, and where they were, unlike mine, which just made up it's mind for a little bit but were never completely sure. His skin was almost as pale as mine, and his hair was only a little darker than mine. I know he wore dark colors like I do, which once upon a time would be intimidating, but, as I've learned, meant nothing more now than not wanting attention.
I saw nothing wrong with it.
People would glare at him as he walked me to school everyday, though I never understood why. He was a nice person. Though he just ignored them. He was a strong person, though I knew from my time at home with him that he was, once I thought about it for a few years and was exposed to the outside, too gentle for the world he was born in.
That particular day was supposed to be amazing. We were supposed to go on a walk to the stream that was supposedly only a couple of miles away from out house. I never ended up seeing that stream. We walked out there and looked out at the spot where the waters used to be, but was now nothing more than a path of dirt. Who knew what happened to it. I didn't ask. I just looked out at the dried area, too yound to fully understand what he was showing me.
