Mark of the Ravens

Ch.1

Ch.1 Little Mouse

Natalie's POV

Chills crawled down my spine, as I sit in the darkness confused to what was happening at what was happening.  Blood red eyes began to swirl around me, making the contained oxygen in that room into a vaccum. 

"No, not today! You promised that I would have until my sixteenth birthday to make my decision!" My voice choked, feeling the need to vomit rise in my throat. I felt a hand covering my eyes, making me unable to see my captor.

"Who are you?!" I screamed out into the darkness, struggling to remove the strong hand that covered my eyes.

It felt as if I was drowning,  having to sputtering out the soiled water that attempted to stop my breathing. To my surprise that is wasn't water.

The faint voice responded, "Now now, all will be revealed in due time.."

"Natalie, you're going to be late for school!" Mom called out from the kitchen. I plunged my head in my pillow, groaning in annoyance.

 Every single day, it was the same scenario. I get a dream that is suppose to determine my faith of my birthday, and when it gets close enough where I can depict who is my  captor, I wake up by my mother. How does she do that on point? It can't be just a coincidence.

"Mom, I don't have school today!" I screamed from my bed. This is honestly getting annoying, I already told her about this yesterday.

"What the hell do you mean you don't have school?" I could hear the heavy clomping up the stairs, getting gradually louder by the second.

 I saw her turn the corner, and could visibly see the rage laced around her eyes. Her shoulder length platinum blonde hair was in a messy bun, making her ocean blue eyes swirling like a tsunami. Wearing white yoga pants and a tight blood red tanktop, it was as if she was auditioning for a workout dvd.  Her short demeanor sometimes gave her a innocent motherly edge. In reality, it made her like the little evil spawnling that she always was meant to be.  

"Mom, I have a free day today because school has to get fumigated for termites" I retorted. On a normal day, I would have cowered in the corner and weep, explaining why I didn't go in full detail. But, I have to admit, this time, her face was just begging to be mocked, so I didn't hold back.  She was looking as red as a firetruck by the end of my sentence.

"Well, get your ass out of bed because I have a lot of chores for you to do." She snapped at me. Now her face of enragement is not so appealing anymore.

"Really, I did all the chores for the rest of the week yesterday, what more do I have to do?" I whined in agony.

"You'll find out." My mom smirks as she staggered out of the room. 

I can never get a day's rest in the forsaken house, or what I would perceive as a jail.

Who I am has little to no value to society, Natalie Jones had no freedom or value to her name. 

Given up at the age of 5, I was forced into a new family by the adoption agency. And having a  new mother that is still stuck in her teenage age dream mentally  gave me a chance to grow up quicker than most little girls. By the age of 7, I learned how to open wine bottles and pour for all the adults like a good little servant, while other girls played with their dollies and baking EasyBake oven cake. 

Being intergrated into a family that exploited you for doing manual labor rather than loving you is quite heartbreaking. But time progressed, living with a venomous, backstabbing witch! Well, a little more than a witch, more like a very bitter bitc-

Well, you get the gist.

And to live in with the terrors of this house for the past 10 years is something that no one should be able to witness in a lifetime. 

As I forced myself to get off my comfy bed, I drifted back, thinking about those weird dreams I had been encountering as of late.

 There was something distinct about these dreams. It was the fact that I was getting ambused by a cult of red eyed shadows, or that I was on a deadline, which so happened to be on my birthday. This couldn't just be a figment of my imagination, because before the incident of when the dreams started,I would dream of making it large in my later years, away from this sickening hole.  Now being sucked into a hole of darkness with a sea of red eyes illuminating my face, wasn't part of my "Have a better life" plan. 

I always thought that they were just nightmares that wanted to remind me of how my home life sucks. And how I should end it in a instant. Though I would never do that.  Either way, all of these "dreams" had nothing to do with my mother or the pair of monkey-brained twins, Marcie and Tracie.

Marcie and Tracie, the devil twins with matching long, platinum blond hair, were total airheads. They would match in most of their clothing, and personality. Cold, snarky, and anything with Gucci. I had the joy of being the same age as the barbies, resulting in  them using their every waking hour spent on making me miserable.

That's besides the point though, what do those dreams mean?

Why would these shadows keep repeating my birthday as if it was today. My birthday wasn't even today, it's in a couple of months, six to be precise. I know now that April twenty-sixth is a day I don't want to come across.

Scrambling to see my alarm clock, I squinted at the annoying contraption. It was around 8 am, which made me want to ignore Mother Dearest's death warnings and sleep. Every morning, or every single walking day of my life, I would dread 8 o'clock.  It would be the time for me to get a life.

No. but a girl can dream. It was time to do my chores from the Queen herself. It was as if the pits of the underworld grabbed me into the ground to rot.

However, what else is new?

Couple painful hours later

I never want see another pair of stilettos again in my life.  

I, Natalie Jones, had the honor of rummaging through all the closets and organizing all the types of shoes by color and letter for 4 hours straight.  I don't even think I am able to look at my own shoes without cringing.

I started to make my way from the twins's room, all the way to my room. I trudged towards my bed, longing to relax on it with a few blankets and a nice book. My wish was never granted.

"Natalie! Get your ass downstairs. You have to clean the kitchen!" I heard my mother's shrill voice ring throughout my room.

Why me, of all the people in this world, you had to choose me. She could have given the job to the twins and see how they would have managed themselves to the sink. They would have literally thought they were in Water world kingdom and want to change into their swimsuits just for the dishes. Yeah this never happened, today. Happened yesterday, but Mother was too caught up in her shows to care. Heck, she even encouraged the girls to get tips from me, and let me deal with those demands, Of course, I was the only one with calloused hands, wouldn't cry because of a measly broken nail, so the job obviously went to me.

I thundered down the stairs, expecting a red-in-the-face mother ready with her spatula.

"Man, not again," I muttered when I saw a tomato-faced mother and a pair of smirking devil spawn.

"How many times did I tell you that "You have to clean the kitchen and the house before I get home" Mother dearest bellowed, as if steam were bursting out of her ears.

"Yes, Mother..." I murmured, started to mop the floors.

I would have argued with her. I would have even yelled at the twins too. However, the truth to the matter was that I have become weaker. I lost my argumentative persona a long time ago.

It was as if I were a little mouse caught in a cage, forced against my will to run on the wheel.

Could anyone free me from this torment?