Black rose

Red Ink

//Note: this plot is heavily influenced by the Christian religion. I cannot guarantee it is accurate but im trying to keep it stable along with the mythical side of this plot//

The morning sun peeked over the horizon, it's golden rays shining through the the thin gray curtains in a small white house. A house as normal as it gets upon the many rows of them. All of them white houses with royal blue shutters, gray curtains, small neat shrubs lining the front, and delicate looking picket fences lining the yards. The morning sun was rising, telling people it wouldn't wait and neither would time as an alarm clock rang. A faint groan left the lips of a teenage girl who lay in bed with her head buried underneath a pillow. Half of her body was hanging over the edge of her bed in the upmost uncomfortable position. She didn't get any sleep the night before as the night hours were when she slaved away, hard at work with her studies. She was tired and in a slump this morning but she was grateful she hadn't fallen asleep bent over a desk with her lamp shining in her face per usual. The annoying ringing in her ears irritated her and caused an agitated sigh to leave her lips before she slammed her hand upon the clock. It was a bad decision on her part as she rolled over, knocking her pillow to the floor as she clutched the side of her hand while wincing.
"Dammit....Fine...Fine im awake" she grumbled as she waited for the dull pain to fade
Once the pain ceased she had just gotten comfortable laying on her bed looking up at her white ceiling. Nevertheless she knew it was time to start her day. She slowly rose from her bed and slide out of her covers. It was the same every single day in every single neighborhood. Wake up at six in the morning, get dressed by seven, leave by five past seven, go to school, come home, read the bible collectively with your family, eat dinner and sleep. A systematic scheme to worship the all mighty god leaving no time for irresponsible fun. The government had turned from a democracy to a heavy theocracy over the years. It was reinforced with the words of god and the blood of Jesus Christ that was a sacred relic collected back before April 3, AD 33 when it was said the savior died. It had been found about forty years ago, long enough to corrupt the previous generation into thinking it was ok to inflict this fate upon their children. No one was allowed to act out of the single minded justice as everyone served under the hand of God. Laylah felt indifferent and out of place in this new society plagued with religious belief that over shadowed truth yet she couldn't shake this overwhelming interest within the lord. A part of her always seemed to leap at the mention of God, thinking it over now made her heart skip a beat. She bit the bottom of her lip to avoid herself from squealing before she slide on the polished tile floor in her deep blue socks. She was filled with this new excitement when she reached her closet then pulled out her standard school uniform. A short black skirt, a white button down blouse,a black satin tie, a pair of black knee high stockings and deep brown penny loafers.

Laylah quickly stripped of her night clothing and put on her uniform leaving a few of the top buttons undone as if it were buttoned all the way her breasts would be pinned down uncomfortably. To make up for this factor she wore a thin white tank top underneath to conceal her cleavage area. The seventeen year old girl sat at her vanity and carefully picked up her brush before she started to tame her silky white locks of hair. It puzzled her family why she was born with white hair. They had no genetic history of such mutation any where in the family. Some called it witchcraft while others called it a sign for the all mighty of course she just thought it was bad luck the mutation occurred in her genes. It made her stand out and not in a good way, she was always plucked out of the crowd and forced to stand alone as well as before them. It was how she proved her worth but it terrified her. Laylah shook off that the feeling of unease as she took a deep breath then opened the door of her bedroom to be met by the smell of jasmine perfume. It was her mother's and a scent she knew all too well. It meant her mom was going to serve out a trial. Her mother was the head of main body, the soul of the government as she would call it. Her mother seemed to be the biggest problem, her selfish hands always expecting something so Laylah didn't even bother to greet her mother before she made her way out of her house then out of the yard lined with perfect little fencing. Her mind began to wander as she fell into the trance of the small rhythmical pitter patter of her foot steps hitting the ground. She had found herself to have a mind with much larger thoughts than this path she was taking allowed. She liked details whether they be small or right in her face. She didn't mind the facts or the truth in fact she longed to know of what people were hiding. Which is why she stopped in just the perfect spot. Perfect enough to get a good look at the unholy grounds.

The unholy grounds was a place of summoning. A restricted evil place where monsters that not even christ could cleanse, lurk in the shadows. A feeling of being watched creeped down her spine but curiosity over powered the good judgement. The short girl looked around for a moment. No one. What was the big deal about this place anyways? She wanted to find out so she started to walk towards the starting of dead, hallow trees. The feeling of eyes looking at her grew intense. She knew she was being watched at this point and panicked when a voice cried.
"Hey! You! Stop right there! Don't take another step!"
It was a cop on patrol in that area. Laylah drew a blank and ran. She was mad, she had to be because she ran deeper into the forest as she knew the cop wouldn't follow her in there. No one would be crazy enough to follow someone into those lands. The air grew cold as the dead leaves on the ground started to be buried by more snow the more she walked. It puzzled her it was the middle of may, it was spring there shouldn't have been snow there. Yet she continued on having to hug herself as the air got colder and the trees seemed to start knitting their bare branches together to block out light. This ominous feeling filled the air as she grew scared and paranoid. Her soft blue eyes glancing around her before she tripped. She tried stopping herself with her hands only to scrape her palms and knees. She hissed in a grimace as the sensitive raw pink flesh was irritated by the snow. She blinked a bit to see she had landed at the base of a tree where her fingers brushed up against the cold metal of a sliver dagger. The dagger was beautiful and it gleamed even in the absence of light.
"take it"
A small voice whispered before Laylah let her hand wrap around the blade before she shifted in the snow. Sitting on her knees now as she held the blade in both hand.

"damien"

The blade had a name carved into the side of it in elegant curved letters. She was in awe and turned the blade over only to suddenly drop it with a small yelp. Droplets of blood hit the snow at the base of the tree as violent wind began to rush around her. The trees made angry hissing noises as the branches reached out at her. The girl scrambled to her feet as the air went frigid and it got harder to breathe. Her mind went wild as shadows started to zip past her. Whispers filled the air and her head as she was struck with this sudden fatigue. Her head was spinning and she felt dizzy. Every sense in her screamed to run as there was danger around but her knees buckled underneath her weight and her world went black.

//1464 words//