Morning Glory

The dark sky above her cold body was still. How long had it been minutes hours even days maybe. There was no question of when they would find her anymore, it was how. Down a dark alley amidst the creatures of the night. Discarded in the harbour. Publicly displayed for all too see. Would they even find her at all. A harsh wind swarmed over head making the hair on her bare skin stand on end. She heard the distant beeping. It was time.

Analise rolled over to face the wall bringing the warm comforter over her head. She allowed a single tear to run down her pale face. He was at the door. The same routine everyday, it was different before. It was only when she angered him that he would lash out. However since she gave him the news of her acceptance into the team he had developed away to keep her quiet and it had worked so far. Each day she would tell herself that today was the day she would get him help today was the day she would escape. But she knows that day would never come.

She felt hollow breath looming over her. His hand was round her ankle pulling her out of the shell of warmth. She dare not scream. She had made that mistake before. His hands reached for her hair, pulling her to her feet. This day was different there was a change. She braced herself for the blow. It didn't come. Gingerly she looked up. Her back met with the decaying wall, knocking the wind out of her. His body was pressed against hers. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. It was six in the morning! But he was an animal. The slap across her face was callous and unforgiving. The sting brought water to her eyes that threatened to pour down her cheeks. 'Did you just look at me?' his face was close to hers. Looking up that was her only mistake. He laughed dryly, tilting her chin up to face him. She fought, not willing to look at this monster again. He clamped onto her chin now forcing her face in front of his. Lifting his other hand he traced the outline of her ruby lips. The Stanley knife was in his hand. This time she didn't struggle but froze. He brought it close to her cheek pressing down for a moment. Then dramatically twisting it away, he released his grip and casually strolled to the opposite corner of the small room. He addressed her facing into the wall. 'Your lucky you know, having that job of yours. Saves that pretty face.' He turned and produced a lighter from inside his dark jacket. Her heart sunk. He slowly lowered her to the floor holding the back of her neck. His hands were cold as they moved under her shirt. He pushed himself down to her stomach, producing the flame. 'No' she quietly pleaded, squirming under his weight. 'No, no' he pushed harder on her body preventing her from means of escaping what was coming. The orange flame licked her bare flesh. 'No, please Tristen, no no no' her voice was raising. Her skin was burning away. She silently suffered, it would make it shorter. Biting into her hand she held back the whimpers that couldn't take the pain away. Soon once his art was done he would leave. Then she could cry.

The pressure of his weight released. He left, but the heat stayed trapped inside her skin. She didn't want to see. She lay on the floor not willing to move. Finally she brought herself to a sitting position, forcing her eyes on the pink skin open skin. The mark left a large crescent like shape reaching up the side of her stomach. Her fingers skimmed the surface of the wound, forcing a quick intake of breath, she pulled her hand away. There was a heavy bang on the wall. 'Get ready for work whore, try to look presentable.' Work. Work was her escape, she loved her work. As much as you could love the work she did. More than anything however she loved the people. For someone so damaged and broken she carried a lot of love.

Pulling herself up, she walked to the neatly folded pile of clothes she kept for work. She always looked presentable. Tristen always checked to make sure no-one would suspect anything. It was an easy disguise. She pulled on the loose navy shirt and grey work trousers. Walking over to the stained mirror hanging on the wall Analise fixed her hair pining back the front pieces and letting the rest fall over her small shoulder. Wiping away the tear stains of yesterdays make up, she thought of the small boy they had saved last month in Seattle. He never cried when he thought they were watching. He was much braver than she was. He faced his demons instead of pretending they don't exist.

'Six thirty' this was her warning. She was to be at work by seven every day earlier than most people. This was another of Tristan's rules. She grabbed her credentials and messenger bag, shoving her feet into the black leather pumps she wore every day. Tristen was a drill sergeant. She stood next to the door as he looked her over checking everything was up to his standards. All clear and she was gone.

She sat in the car park outside the unit entrance, head tilted back against the seat. She had the bottom buttons of her shirt open allowing some air to get to the sore. The pain wasn't pleasant but was bearable if she didn't touch it.

(end of chapter i hope you enjoyed it, please leave a comment letting me know what you thought)