Lost Crown

Stranger

A smile. It was twisted, broken. He looked at her with hungry eyes and pointed his knife at her, smiling. "Nothing gives me more pleasure than to do this." He chuckled darkly and a chill went up my spine. I knew he relished every last sick sense of this. I prepare myself, ready to fight.

"Let's just get this over with, old man." I spat bitterly, disgusted by his pleasure. He had me trapped in a dark room, as always. I pulled out my staff; the shadows started to dance. It was as if they were people, trapped in here the same as me. He grinned cunningly and flipped his knife in his hand. It was always poisoned, a slick green substance reflected the candle light.

I screamed and charged, the sound muted by the shadows that clung to the walls of the room desperately. I thrust the end of my staff towards his heart, hoping to catch him off guard.

But all he did was laugh.

As soon as my staff would've made contact, he disappeared, like always. I quickly landed on the floor, dodging his attack from behind. I spun, trying to trip him with my leg, but it went right through him. The shadows that hugged the wall now converged on me, hungrily grasping at my body. I finally looked around defeated once again. I screamed as they torn into my flesh, and as my vision darkened, I saw his nasty grin.

"Next time, daughter." He would always say. I screamed and struggled against them, but the darkness already consumed me.

I woke up in sweat and tears, sitting straight up. It was only a dream, but it felt so real and so... Painful. My arms and legs still hurt from the places they tried to tear into. I got up and looked beside me. A robotic miniature black wolf obnoxiously banged against the side of the box, trying to escape. For some reason it reminded me of something that I've been through, yet the memories slipped away.

Is that how it's always going to be? When I get closer to discovering something, that the finish line always seems to move farther away? I sigh and look at the clock. It was two thirty in the morning, the digital numbers flickering. I smiled. About time I woke up.

I quickly slide over to my closet, ignoring the sleeping Nico in my room. I was too early to wake him up anyways. I shifted through the closet, looking for my running outfit. As soon as I grasped it, I quickly made my way to the bathroom silently. Silly little Nico, always manages to fall asleep in my room.

Though we both know why.

My room is the only room we are actually safe in. Well, to an extent. It's not like we can run from him, anyways. I struggled out of my previous day's outfit, practically peeling off my dark skinny jeans. They were faded and torn in plenty of places, showing their age. I've had these pants for what? About six years now? I sighed. I've got to make due with what we have. Can't get any new pairs, anyways.

After I shrugged my shirt off, I started the cold water. I prefer hot showers, but a cold shower helps me wake up! The shower was half way rusted and the shower curtain torn. Cracks in the yellow tile floor divided the bathroom, though not to the point of scary. At least, not yet.

I step in, goose bumps racing along my skin as the water chilled me to the bone. All I wanted was warmth, but I guess I'll just have to get it later in the day. I scrub my scalp roughly with shampoo and conditioner. The bubbles rinse down my back, the water chasing them down. After that, I tenderly clean my body. Bruises were just about everywhere, so it was hard to ignore the throbbing pain.

Though I've grown accustomed to those being there. After Mom past away, our father has never been the same. I'm not even sure if he is still our father. He gets in fits of rage, beating me until he felt better. He would call me an orphan, a crime, and any other words he could grasp with his small intellect to call me.