Her From Another World

~10. Creepy Tombs & Wild Magic~

~Eva's POV~

Dirty, malnourished, ragged clothed bodies pushed against each other fighting with all their strength to get the attension of the new giver.

Albeit weak from the lack of food for a whole two weeks I too pushed my way to the front not willing to loose the opportunity to get fresh food.

Giant muscular men fanned infront of the giver protecting the rich man from all sides.

"Don't move about causing trouble! Everyone! Stand in a line, Boss will choose the person." One of the men shouted his voice cold, vicious and scary in my ten year old ears.

Frightened we all stopped moving doing as we are told. Angering the giver will mean no food. We did not want that.

Finally the man stood up, he looked like a king looking down at the peasents, disgust for us shone clear in his eyes.

But I did not care, the only though wirling around my mind was hunger, hunger and hunger.

After survying us with barely hidden contempt the man wisphered something to the huge man beside him before disappearing into his car with several other men tailing behind.

The man walked forward before roughly taking few of us forward, me being the last one.

The rest of the street kids were kicked away when they tried begging, hit with no remorse.

But I did not feel any sympathy or pity, for us living was survival of the fittest. Their poor luck they were not chosen, pity and sympathy did not exist in our world.

Soon the few of us who were selected were dragged away put in a truck. We all sat down leaning against the truck walls, dreaming what the furture would hold.

Every month a giver would visit the slums, choosing few of the kids before taking them away. The kids never come back, it was said that they were taken to a new place with new clothes and fresh food, that they were given a new life.

Now sitting inside the moving vehicle I felt lucky being selected, something soft beaming in my heart at the prospect of food and clothes.

We all followed the muscular men keeping quiet in our best behaviour not knowing the hell we were about to face.

Not knowing we would wish for the streets with every fibre of our body.

"Bang, bang!" The sound of someone pounding at my door made me come out my reverie.

Clicking the pen close I shouted, "Coming!" before walking towards the front door.

I was writing on my journal, the story of my life. Whenever I tap into the unwanted, dark memories my mind locks out the outside world sending me back to haunting times.

One would ask why I would take the risk just write it down, but it in a twisted way helped. Since arriving in this world I've felt that the past no longer hindered me.

I was in a different world, I was out of reach, those demons in human clothing will be far away from me.

Even though I missed my family, the urge to run back to them, the longing to go back to mmy world had slowly diminished as I accepted what was happening around me was real not a dream. So for the first time in my life I had the courage to face my past, reliving them again as I wrote my story, so they could no longer hurt me in my weakest moments.

Quickly arriving at the door I opened it to find a bloody Damon standing infront of me leaning against the wall for support while he bled all over the front porch.