Murder on My Mind

Have you ever had a day that is just so mind numbingly frustrating that you aren't even sure what to do? You just walk around glaring at everyone and everything, daring someone, something, to get in your way. Well that's the kind of day I have most days. The worst part is that everyone expects so much from you. You can't answer with the truth when someone asks you how you are. It just isn't socially acceptable. People would think you're crazy if you answered with anything other than good. You can get by with "okay" or "I'm making it" but anything beyond that and you would be better off lying. Can you imagine if someone said to you, "Well, my day has gone wrong in every fucking way possible and I think I need to kill someone." I mean, can you imagine if I said that to you? Because of this I simply lie through my teeth and say, "I'm good."

Of course, most people don't dare ask me how I'm doing. Most people go out of their way to avoid me. I'm pretty sure most of the people in my high school are afraid of me. They have good reason to be really, my past isn't exactly something that the general population knows. So, naturally, everyone has heard about it, or heard one version of the story or another about it. Everyone whispers as I walk by, and I'm not just paranoid, I have heard some of the conversation. "Oh, you better be careful of Morana. You may end up missing if you get on her bad side," or "You don't want to talk to her, you might end up dead." Rather silly what kids will come up with to entertain themselves and cause drama. And it isn't my fault if some of what they say might be true.

I have a very faint memory from when I was still with my biological parents. We were camping in a forest somewhere. I have no idea where, I was three. Tristan has told me how he found me many times. I remember that my parents and I were sleeping in a little pop up camper when we were woken up by an odd roaring noise. I don't remember the details very well, but I remember the noise. And I remember seeing the flames of the wildfire flicker around us, as though it were licking its lips in preparation of consuming us for dinner. It surrounded us. The fire roared, it cackled, as though to laugh at us. At some point my parents had gotten separated from me. I have no idea how or what happened exactly. What I do remember is crying as the giant, roaring monster reared up as it prepared to devour me. The next thing I remember is a man leaning over me, looking into my bloodshot grey eyes. The man's eyes were a brilliant electric blue and his hair was black and choppy.

As he picked me up and tucked my head into the little niche where his neck and shoulder meet, he said, "I've got you, Little Warrior. Let's get you to safety." His voice was soft and calm. It cooled the heat that was surrounding and calmed the panic rising inside me. He wrapped my little arms around his neck and he told me to close my eyes and hold on tight. I remember feeling safe and protected in that moment.

Lost in thought, I walk through the front door of my house and go straight to my room. I hate this room. It smells weird and the bed doesn't feel right. I miss the bed that had been mine for almost thirteen years. The blood red sheets fit me way more than these dull grey ones do. As I throw my backpack onto my bed, I look in the mirror. My long red hair swirled chaotically around me like an out of control wild fire and piercing, stormy grey eyes glare back at me. It was a look that I have seen many times, and yet it seems unfamiliar. It isn't the same look that I used to see that held the monster inside me. I sigh and begin braiding my hair. I quickly change into an emerald green tank top and black shorts and make my way back to the front door. As I pass through the living room I scowl as I see the people who claim they are my parents. I despise them, they are keeping me away from the life I'm meant to live. I head straight for the only place that feels remotely like home, the forest at the end of the street.

I sprint right into the depth of the forest and duck and weave my way through the brush and trees. Pushing myself harder and harder, I leap effortless over a fallen tree and continue on my way. The forest is my personal jungle gym. The only place I am able to train in. I miss the intense training sessions I used to have every day.