by Chey Lenoir
One-
My curled, auburn hair was down today in spite of the heat. Florida was a nasty, and waste of space. I hated living in it just as much as I hated the heat. I loved Minnesota to pieces. I can still remember pieces of my childhood just standing in the snow and catching snowflakes on my tongue. I haven't seen snow since I was a kid, and I would love to see it again - as soon as I can get my ass back up to Minnesota.
My green eyes landed on my grey, skull and flag graphic tank top. I groaned as I leaned over retrieve it. I slipped it over my black bra and found my gladiator-looking sandals on the ground. I lifted them up and sat on my bed as I tried to put them on my feet.
I was going to my sister's house. My sister and her boyfriend of two years were having a party of some sort, and I had to go. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister and everything, but I had to watch her and her boyfriend make out, eat each other's faces off, and show so much love to each other. They will always have the love that I can't have - true love.
I sighed as I finished putting on my sandal, the memory already coming back to me.
Being the little kid I was, I was beyond upset. I was just informed that my parents were forcing me to move to Florida. The only question I asked them was so simple. "Would there be snow there?" I asked them, my pretty green eyes were curiously digging into my parents' eyes.
"No," they told me. "It doesn't snow in Florida."
My eyes filled up with tears and I ran outside to my comfort - the winter. I had no idea why I loved Winter so much. I welcomed the cold bitterness of the air with open arms. I would go outside far much more than all the other kids on the block would. Whenever I was upset, I would make a little snow man, and talk to him as if he were my friend. The dead-looking trees with no leaves attached to them were the most beautiful thing in the world to me. Winter was beautiful, as others saw it as destruction and ugliness.
"You poor thing," said a deep voice. I looked up to a man far much older than me. He had dark, curled hair, with a pair of burning blue eyes to match. He seemed to be brooding and in a very upset mood. But yet, he was smiling like a crooked man. Why? "Out here all alone. Where are your parents?"
"I don't want to talk to them," I said firmly in my ten-year-old voice. I wiped away at the traitor tears.
"Oh well, that's a shame, is it not?" he said, "Come on, girl. Tell me, why are you crying? Can't be much worse than my reason for being out here."
"I'm moving," I openly told the man. Something in my stomach just felt warm when he was near. I knew that he wouldn't hurt me, or wouldn't even think about doing so. He felt safe to me, despite his traitoring looks. "To Florida, and I won't see the beautiful snow anymore. I want to stay here, but Mom and Dad say I can't."
The man set a hand on my shoulder. "Tell you what, kid. If my life isn't better by the time you turn eighteen and still live in Florida, I'll come get you."
My face brightened. "You would?"
The man nodded, a smile crossing his face. "I swear on my life." He brought a hand to my waist. He couldn't touch my skin, but that didn't mean it didn't have an effect on me. A jolt of electricity ran through my hip area. It spread throughout my torso and reached a little bit into my mid-thigh. Did he just shock me? After the shock wore off, the entire area began to tingle.
"Thank you," I told him and wrapped my arms around him. For a second, he tensed up. It was as if he never received a hug before. That was.. odd. He relaxed after a moment and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
"I'll come for you, Kiara," the man told me. "Don't forget. I'll come for you."
The man stood up, unwrapping himself from me and walked away without another glance. My heart was torn at the sight of him leaving. I wanted to go with him, to forget about my family and just leave with him. Why did that seem like such an easy idea?
I shook my head. Little did I know what that man even was. He was a dark man, I knew that much. But he had power, he was supernatural and he shouldn't exist. He's come back to me in my dreams, and in my life a few times. I've saw him on the street, a broad smile on his face.
What he left me with was something I can never remove.
Those tingles, those electric shocks aren't normal - they were the appearances of my 'tattoos' as I call them. They were black, simple swirling designs that didn't intersect with each other. Instead, they connected roses that were placed in different places on my torso, back, and mid-thighs. It was a beautiful tattoo, but it left me angry with him.
I was ten years old for god sakes! You would really give a child a tattoo at ten? What the hell was that for?
I shook my head. I shouldn't even be getting worked up over this. It's done and over with. There’s nothing I can do anymore.
I glanced down at my jean shorts and noticed part of a rose on my tattoo sticking out. My friends thought my tattoo looked gorgeous on me. My sister was jealous that she couldn’t pull a tattoo like mine off, and my sister's boyfriend refuses to see it since it’s on my body and not my sister’s - what a loyal boyfriend. My parents, when they found out, I was fifteen. I told them that some man gave it to me and I refused to tell them who gave it to me. I honestly didn’t want to get that man put away in jail. I wanted him to come save me.
I shook my head as I grabbed my phone and left my messy room. I looked at my phone and read the text message my sister had sent me.
“Better be here soon, Kiara. -Kelsey”
I rolled my eyes as I made my way downstairs. My parents were gone for the weekend, claiming that they wanted to spend some ‘alone’ time. My guess is that they wanted to the humpty dumpty without us kids in the house. Well, me at least. I’m the only child left living with them.
I quickly replied to my sister as I walked through the kitchen that led to the door to outside.
“Calm your titties, jeez. I’m coming. -Kiara”
I grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter and left the house entirely. I knew my friend Wendy would be there, as well as a few friends of my sister’s boyfriend. I shook my head, a slight smile on my face. I don’t even know how I had become friends with Wendy - she’s the complete opposite of me.
Wendy was uptight, and wanted to stay indoors, where everything was safe and she was away from harm’s touch. I, however, dared to go outside in the middle of the night. I was daring, and am adventurous and she was shy and clueless. She excelled in the math, arts and English department where I excelled at gym, and dancing. She barely talked to guys, whereas I mostly hung out with them. We were polar opposites, and somehow we managed to become friends over one thing: fairy tales.
I know it seemed really silly, but Wendy and I shared that one thing in common. We loved to read fairy tales whether it was in story books, or Disney Movies. Hell, we even read the Grimm’s Fairy Tales for the hell of it (We particularly didn’t like it). We both believed in happy endings, goodwill, fairy tales, and magic. We both believed it was there, you just had to look hard enough for it. Whenever a few fairy tale story came out, we fangirled over it. And you best believe that Once Upon A Time is both of our favorite TV shows. Glee, nor Vampire Diaries could even top Once Upon A Time.
Chewing on my lip, I continued to drive through the small Florida town. I hated this town. I thought Minnesota was stuck up? Oh hell no. Minnesota is innocent compared to this town. Back in Minnesota, people did hypothetically stab you in the back. I mean, it was mainly best friend shit, nothing too bad. Here, people cheated, and went behind your back. They whispered in front you. They were terrible.
And I was the outcast who’d got the brunt of it all when I moved here.
I pulled up next to the curb of my sister’s house. She and her
boyfriend moved out of Mom and Dad’s house about three weeks ago to move in together. They were pretty serious and romantic so it was okay for them at least. If I had done the same with a guy at the same point in their relationship, I would get criticised and yelled at.
After we moved to Florida, my parents changed their perspective towards me. They thought that I was the weird child for liking winter more than sunshine. They thought I was weird for enjoying the cold rather than the heat. They knew that after turning the age of ten, something in my changed. Something in me stirred and was caged inside. They didn’t know what, until I hit the teenage years.
In my teens, I’d become the problem child. I’d stayed out late, partying with strangers. I’d drink in the graveyard with a couple friends. I would sneak out just to be with Wendy at her house. I was the town’s problem child, the one girl everyone hated. I was the town’s trash girl. I’d become the slut, the hooker, white trash, and most of all, the freak.
After my teenage years, they gave up hope on me changing my ways. They thought I would be a burger flipper at McDonald’s, living underneath their roof
