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❝ my name is elijah. ❞
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THERE IS THIS MOMENT WHEN YOU ARE A TEENAGE GIRL. You do not belong to anybody. You are not really a daughter. You are not anyones partner. You are not related to anyone at all.
Enola fell madly in love with everything. Everything made her excited. Drinking coffee out of a cracked cup with a yellow rose on it. The covers of paperbacks in a bookstore window. The smell of skunk as she walked along the abandoned train tracks. A row of plastic horses on a windowsill. The gold songbirds on the wallpaper in a motel room. The stack of television monitors in the store window, each playing a different show. A trumpet player in the subway. You see the world in such a strange and intense and creative way in that brief time when you truly believe you do not belong to anyone. When you are most likely to be murdered. When abuse cannot touch your personhood. The way she saw the world then is what she wanted to capture in art. And then it was oh so violently pulled out of her grasp with the existence of vampires and werewolves and witches.
Girlhood was over for Enola. It ended the day that the car drove off the bridge. But that didn't stop her from searching for the beauty in everything. Though it never lasted longer than five minutes. Maybe she wasn't meant for the simple things in life. If she were, she would be safely tucked away in her bedroom instead of here. Wherever here was. It wasn't her girlhood. It was her worst nightmare. Where vampires, witches, and werewolves existed. Where girlhood was far beyond her reach.
"Just a taste,"
Enola groaned in pain. A pounding headache rattled her skull. She briefly remembered the events of the previous night. Fortunately their plan with Katherine had succeeded. Unfortunately they were unable to celebrate. The last thing she remembered was her sister complaining about her failing love life—at least she had a love life to complain about—and then everything went dark. Until now. Enola slowly peeled her eyes open to find a man hovering over her with a predatory look in his eye. Before he could touch her, however, her sister interfered by hitting him across the face.
"Stay away from her!" Elena growled.
"You little bitch!" He spat angrily. He went to attack, but was interrupted by a pretty woman with fiery red hair and a deep scowl.
"Control yourself, Trevor!" She commanded.
"Buzz kill," He—Trevor—grumbled in disappointment.
"What do you want with us?" Elena questioned, holding onto her sister for dear life.
