Chapter 2

SHELBURNE, VERMONT

Cirilla's Point Of View

I curled up on my bed. My head throbbed against my skull. The thin line between my eyes was glued tightly together. The depth of my soul had wandered far away, pulling me into a warm fuzzy dream. I was at a place I had never been. The air around me was calming and welcoming, and the feel of the soft, sandy soil beneath my bare feet was a sweet pleasure. Suddenly darkness covered the earth and there was only chaos around.

I heard the faint sounds of screams, and the foul stench of death invaded my nostrils. My heart pricked with fear, as a cold, deathly feeling clamped around me.

It was suffocating.

I tried to abscond it but that was impossible. The cold, deathly feeling seeped into my bones and spread within me. I felt myself slowly slipping away when bright, crystalline blue eyes flashed within the storm of insanity stealing me away. Those perfect and immaculate blue gazes were so foreign, yet they held a striking familiarity. I had never seen them before, but boring right at it felt like staring deep into my own soul. I could see a reflection of myself in them. In a flash, my vision was covered with absolute darkness.

I yanked up from the bed. I held my head protectively with both hands in a poor attempt to quell the immense ache that banged heartlessly against my skull. It was morning already, and I was in my room. With a splitting headache and insane pains in my bones, I grabbed the scattered sketchbooks that lay in a slothful manner on the bed, dumping them on the wooden table beside the bed. I was about to push out of bed when my electric blue eyes caught a glimpse of my hand.

My eyes shot open in panic. My heartbeat had tripled, pounding violently against my chest. I inspected my hands. They were covered in blood and muddy specks of dirt.

What the hell! My whole body was covered in dirt. I jumped to my feet, racing to the tall mirror hanging across my small room. I was left agape, staring at myself in total horror. My long blonde hair was covered in the earth's dirt and a reddish stain at the side of my head like I had crashed it into something and bled out. The same dirt stains smeared my shirt, black skinny pants, and my face. There was a dried, reddish dark stain at the side of my shirt. It looked like blood. I pulled up my shirt, my index finger trailing the slightly fresh cut at the side of my stomach.

What the hell happened to me?

I tried to recall everything that happened last night, but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't remember. Like there was a vacuum embedded in my memory. The last thing I remembered was slamming my door shut when Mum had brought in one of her usual manwhores for the night. I forced myself to remember, but I couldn't. I felt a deep cavity in my memory. Something was missing, and I was on the verge of hysteria. I picked up my boots, they were smeared with mud and dirt. I was out last night, but why the fucking hell can't I remember?

I ruffled through my hair, pricking at my memory. But there was nothing. I made another attempt when I picked up subtle whispers. I gently pulled open the door, glancing around the tiny living room and attached kitchen. There was no one there, the whispers seemed to be escaping from Mother's room, across the living room.

I was exasperated already to get mixed up in her lovers' squabble, which will most definitely end with either one of us almost killing each other. I meant that literally not figuratively. My mom and I don't see eye to eye. We don't exactly have the best mother-and-daughter relationship.

Truthfully, it's not my fault. It's more of her fault and largely more of the imbecile father who abandoned us before I was even born for another woman who I hope lives her life in outright misery. I really don't know the details. Mum never saw the need to share, but she always never missed any opportunity to blame me for her miserable and pathetic life. She blames everything wrong in her life on me, only if she could open her eyes and realize she didn't need any damn help from me to destroy her already miserable life.

I was about to shut my door when my pretty effective ears heard a loud thud. I scrunched my brows, gaiting across her room. The door was slightly left ajar, even still I couldn't see a damn thing. Mum was certainly not having a squabble with her night conquest. I heard the unfamiliar voice of a woman. That surprised me. Mum wasn't exactly the friendly type who easily made friends, unfortunately, I inherited that from her. But I'm not a loner.

In my seventeen years of existence, we've moved around the world more than I could count. We are constantly on the move. That's not just weird, it's sick! It's not like someone was after us or something. Mum didn't care to give any explanation, and I stopped bothering myself to ask. The outcome is always the same. We fight intensely to the point I think one of us might lose it, snap out, and kill the other. Maybe I'm just exaggerating the whole thing, but the energy between us is bad. Sometimes I feel I don't know my mum at all.

I kept trying to poke my head. A woman in a long black cloak appeared from a corner of the room. She was unfamiliar with a hood above her long hair, making it difficult to see her face. Then my mum appeared from another corner, I could see them both. They were arguing and the woman seemed pissed, and my mum was angrier. They looked like they were about to devour each other, but there was something about the woman in the black cloak. Something different, dark, and slightly dangerous. The manner she moved around, and swung her fingers in the air probably trying to prove a point was something. I felt the hairs on my skin stand unpleasantly.

Instantly, their hush whispers halted and before I knew it, Mum pushed the door open.

Fuck! I didn't prepare myself for that. She tossed her usual spiteful and irritating look at me. I was used to that so it didn't faze me out. I was more interested in the woman who intentionally had her back to me. Mum blocked my view, her sandy brown eyes locking with my blue ones. It wasn't a secret I inherited none of my looks from my mother. I'm most definitely certain I looked more like my disaffected father, that can only explain my looks. Maybe that's why she despised me so much because I reminded her of the man who hurt her and abandoned her for another.

Mum and I had nothing in common. It's safe to say we can pass as strangers with no blood ties at all. She had sandy brown eyes, and long ebony black hair that was never well taken care of or shown good days. She was tall and slender, good figure, and had an injured leg, probably from an accident a long time ago. I don't know anything because she never tells me anything about herself or her relatives. I guess we had none, we were totally outcasts. I, on the other hand, had long blonde hair and blue eyes, see complete opposites.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

I crossed my hand against my chest at her fierce outburst.

"I thought I heard you arguing with someone" My gaze voluntarily moved to the silver-haired woman. It lingered on her for a while, but she didn't budge at all. I wanted to get a good look at her.

Mom was about to say something, but she halted halfway. Her fury-fused sandy brown eyes examined me and I became aware of my own state.

Damn, I forgot to clean up. Mom's nose flared up, and I could feel the blazing storm heading my way. Mentally, I prepared myself for it. I had to be ready.

"Where the fuck have you been brat?!" She flared up, grabbing my wrists roughly. At Mum's dramatic outburst, the woman dressed in a black cloak swerved instantly. Panic and intense emotions of fear were registered in her dark purple eyes. I grabbed the opportunity to explore her facial features. She was quite a beauty, having unique, yet dangerous purple eyes. Slender cheekbones and thin lips. She had strained dark circles on the skin around her eyes. It looked like it was formed from stress or maybe, tiredness. Honestly, I couldn't tell. Still, she was a beauty. Her deep purple eyes locked with mine. I held her stare and she had masked all emotions in them. But the intensity of her stare was extreme as if demanding I cower in fear or look away, but there was a stubborn voice in my head that yelled otherwise. So I stuck with that stubborn voice as always, boring hard at her.

"Where have you been Cirilla?" She yanked closer dramatically. I wish I also knew the answer to that question.

I flinched at her sudden hysterics. It was worse than when I first snuck out of the house. I was only fourteen. My childhood was different from most children at my age. I was never allowed to leave the house, or even have friends. I was like a doll locked up in a dollhouse, but the younger me liked to think I was Rapunzel locked in a tower. Silly thoughts.

Occasionally, when she had her usual extreme mood swings and cursed at her life, she would beat me up to pulps when I was still younger. It happened till I turned fifteen and realized that I shouldn't put up with it. I learned to defend myself against Mum and those manwhores she kept bringing home for a one-night stand.

I jerked my wrist away from her hurting grip, my deep eyes bulging at hers.

"I was out running, I tripped and fell" Those words flew right out of my lips automatically. That was an outright flat lie. But I didn't care if she bought it or not. I felt my skin burning under their inflaming stares.

She certainly didn't believe me. Even I wouldn't believe myself. The woman in the black cloak ambled closer, directing fury glares at my mum. It was obvious she was holding herself back from pouncing on Mum. Mum stared back at her, there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. I looked from mum to the other woman. They gazed thoughtfully at each other as if their stares were having some kind of conversation.

Mum's sandy brown eyes met mine, holding the usual emotions she always sent at me. Rage and spite. I wasn't bothered by that, but I was bothered by the next words that strolled like nothing from her lips.

"Pack up, we are leaving!"

I heard wrong, right? I ought to have, it just can't be happening, again.

"Are you deaf? Pack up, we are leaving this fucking town!" She yelled at my face when she didn't see me move.

I was aghast. "Again?" My blonde hair was literally on fire. "It's barely a fucking year since we moved here…."

"And thanks to you we are moving again" She spat, and I couldn't take it. How the fuck is it my fault? I glanced furiously at the silver-head woman. This had definitely got to be her fault. Her stare told me she knew exactly what I was thinking.

"How the fuck is it my fault? I just settled in school and I even got a job" She stared at me like I was spilling total rambles. "I'm not leaving mum!" I practically yelled it at her face. Her face contorted, and she moved closer as if daring me to speak again.

"Don't test me you ungrateful bastard of a child" It came out in a whisper, but her words caused me to lose my words. Strangely it had hurt something deep within me. How could a mother hate her own daughter so much?

Before I could recover, I was shoved away with the hard slamming of the door. I stood there for awful long seconds, I didn't know I had balled my fists. I inhaled and exhaled, calming myself, reminding myself as I walked to my room that in a few months, I'll be eighteen, I'll be responsible for myself, and be out of this hellish life. That was my goal and my redemption.

I gave a careful look at myself in the mirror. There was a missing page in my memory. Something happened last night Cirilla. I whispered to myself, trailing the cut on my stomach. Why can't I remember?