The UnNameables

Freya's Beginning

         A pair of golden eyes stared through the glass as a car in the driveway started and drove away. A smile slowly crossed the full lips belonging to the golden eyes. Freya leapt up from her window seat and crossed the room to the door. She grabbed her bags and descended the ornate staircase. At the bottom, her hands lifted the hood of her black sweatshirt to cover her golden hair. Her head turned furtively around to take one last look at the palace that had been her prison for the past four years. After a second, her head snapped back around and she walked purposefully to the locked front doors. She knelt before them and her eyes flashed. Immediately, the intricate locks unlocked.

Stepping out into the crisp air, Freya's lithe frame relaxed. She looked around at the huge houses surrounding her and felt relieved. She was never coming back. Ever. Stepping onto the sidewalk, she began her journey. She didn't know where she was going, but she walked. After a while, Freya guessed she was about seven miles away from the house. She spotted a gas station about two blocks away, directly behind a crappy-looking motel, and began walking toward it.

She swung the door open and walked in, the bell above the door tinkling. The cashier immediately turned to look at the new arrival. As his head turned, he began to greet her before his words seemed to flee. "Hel-"

Freya stepped closer, and he managed to finish his greeting. "-lo. Can I...help you?" His eyes were riveted on the shiny red scar on her left jaw that seemed to jump out of the dark silhouette under her hood.

"Know any good places to stay?" The man startled when Freya spoke. She ignored it. "I've never been here before."

His eyes quickly looked her up and down. "No kidding." Her jeans screamed 'rich girl' and her luggage looked very expensive. Freya looked quizzically at him, and he snapped out of his reverie. "There's a motel right next door that charges fair prices."

Freya lowered her hood. "Now that we've gotten past that awkward intro, where's the nearest high school?"

The man looked shocked as her golden hair spilled out of the restraining hood. He took in her full lips and striking golden eyes. Even with the scar, he decided, she was pretty. He looked into her eyes and smiled. "There's a prep school about two miles east that I know of. Otherwise, there's the public school, Quincy High. Quincy is kind of seedy, but, then again, so is the motel next door."

Freya laughed and thanked him before walking out. She raised her hood again and her eyes flashed as the door swung shut behind her, seemingly of its own accord. She could faintly hear rock music in the distance, and ignored it as she walked into the motel. She slapped enough money for a month's stay on the counter and took the room key she was given. She walked up the stairs and got settled in the room. Freya looked out the window to see the sign for the Women's Detention Center across the road. She walked closer to the window and watched the center for a minute before lying in bed and falling fast asleep.

The next morning, she dressed in less expensive jeans and her black hoodie. She locked the door behind her and began walking in the direction the cashier had waved to when speaking of Quincy High. It took a few minutes to get there, and on the way she thought about when she'd changed.

*****

The accident had happened about four years ago, when she'd realized she was different. Her dad was driving and he'd been drinking earlier, though none of them knew that. Her, her mom, and her sister had gone to pick him up from a business trip he'd taken to a place about an hour away. They'd been happy to see him, but her mom and dad argued in the car on the way back. Fourteen-year-old Freya was sitting in the seat behind her dad. She hated to hear them argue and had covered her ears when she heard something about another woman. Her sister was already asleep in the seat next to her and it took little time for Freya to fall asleep also. The next thing she knew was pain. Searing pain. Her eyes flew open as the car jolted and time slowed. She watched her mom get crushed by the oncoming car and started screaming. Her sister, still asleep, was covered in broken glass and crushed metal. Freya cried as she watched her sister bleed. She was forced into the door by the impact of the crash. Her ankle was trapped between the oncoming, warping metal and her door. She cried out in pain as the metal seemed to grab onto her hip. The red-hot door burned her face and wouldn't let go. Freya screamed and cried for hours. She watched, out of the corner of her eye, as her mother was removed and wrapped in a black bag. She saw her sister being carried toward the flashing red and white lights, dripping blood on the ground beneath her. Freya heard the rescue people talking about trying to get her out. They said that the metal was too warped to get her out safely. She faded in and out of consciousness, hearing snippets of conversations. She heard that her mother was dead and her sister was close to dying.