• Levi •
I've wished for death too many times to count when I was a child. Too bad only my soul died, not my body.
Now that i'm older, I refuse to give up.I want answers.
Answers that my family can give me. A family that doesn't even know I exist...
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• Levi •
The cemented floor I'm lying on is cold. I shiver and try to ignore the black spots that are forming in my sight. My whole body hurts and I let out a small whimper. The welts on my legs are infected and pus is dripping out of them. I know I need a doctor, but Sir would only call one when my wounds were life-threatening.
I hate Sir, my master, my torturer. The middle-aged man that brought me to this huge house when I was only 5 years old. Took me out of the over-populated orphanage who was more than happy to let him take a child out of their hands. He stole everything from me, my life, my freedom and my innocence the moment I stepped foot into this house.
I hear a child scream in the distance and try to detach myself from the sound. I know what's happening and I know it's my turn again soon, when I am healed more. The screaming comes closer, the voice growing weaker until the screams turn into small sobs. This girl has to be new, because she sounds young. I feel pity, but my darker side is happy. Another person means more time for me to heal. More time on my own. More time away from Sir.
The door opens and I look up. The comfortable darkness that surrounded me is now disturbed by the faint light that is coming from the open doorway. The lights is uncomfortable, making me narrow my eyes and groan. One of the guards is carrying a plate with the usual cold, watered down soup, hard bread and a small cup of lukewarm water. He also sets down a bucket, so I can relieve myself.
I try to push myself up so I can take the food but I am too weak. Another whimper forms in my throat but I push it back down. I can't show weakness here, I have to be hard, detached. Cold.
The guard leans against the wall, folding his arms in front of his bulky chest and smirks. I know he is enjoying my pain, my suffering. I'm glad Sir makes it clear that no one can touch his Dolls, because I know the look of the guard. Lust. He wants me like Sir has me.
I cringe and crawl towards the plate. It takes me a long time before I reach it and when I do, I start eating right out of the bowl. I no longer feel embarrassed that they make me eat like an animal. I know I am nothing. That I am nothing more than a plaything for my Sir. I learned to live with that fast.
I've forgotten how long I've been here. I don't even know how old I am. I look at my thin broken body. Bruises, welts and older scars are covering my once porcelain skin. My bones are pressed against my skin and I have almost have no breasts. I do have hair growth on places where I didn't have hair before. That means I am a teenager right now, if I remember the things the older girls told me when I was still in the orphanage. I have never seen the sky after leaving the orphanage. Never felt the wind blow through my hair or felt the sun warming my skin after that fateful day. I don't even really remember what it felt like.
After eating my food and drinking my water, the guard roughly pushes me away and takes the plate. He leaves the bucket and closes the door behind him. The sound of the door closing still breaks my heart. I want to cry, but I already cried a lifetime of tears. I've run completely empty.
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I open my eyes and throw the dirty blanket off my body. I'm sweating and breathing harshly. When I get up I look in the mirror that is hanging on the wall, close to the door. I look like a mess, sweat running down my body, my eyes are wide and my shirt is ripped, making my breasts visible. I must've ripped it when I was having my nightmare.
I take off my shirt, throw it in the bin and walk toward the dirty looking bathroom. Taking off my clothes, I turn on the shower. A cockroach is walking over the sink, like he owns the place. Well. Maybe he does, I don't fucking know.
I step under the sorry excuse of a shower and wash the terror of my dream off my body. It's funny how I am so detached from everything now, but still fear my own past. It's pathetic.
After the quick shower, I put on a string, my black leather pants, grey tank top, leather biker jacket and combat boots. Since I have a small B cup, I never wear a bra. They just make me feel more uncomfortable. After putting my dreadlocks in a low ponytail, I look for my phone. The display shows that it's 6 AM. Good, because I still have a 3 hour drive to go. I stuff all my shit in my black leather backpack and take my hunter knife and Glock. I never go anywhere without them.
Putting the knife inside the pocket I made inside of my boots, pulling my jeans over them so they are not in sight and my gun in the back of my pants, I walk towards the door and step outside. I really hate motels like this, but they are cheap and no one asks questions. I walk towards my bike, put my stuff in the duffel bags and straddle my bike. Smoothly I turn my bike and ride the last 3 hours, towards a small town in the middle of the Nevada desert.
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Authors note: Since both the Main Characters are very unsocial people, it will take a while for you guys to get to know the secondary characters. Please be patient!
