Hello readers!

Yes I know I left ya'll hanging, I disappeared for months, and I am honestly so sorry! I love this story and its characters but to be completely honest… I wasn't happy with it. I wasn't confident in my writing style and I wasn't content in the direction I was taking the plot in. I had so many ideas and plotpoints that I want to hit, that I felt like it would become confusing, and non-interesting. I felt like if I took a break, worked on my writing style, gathered up a plot and thought of more ways to develop the characters, then I'd feel better. So here it I am! I am working hard to update weekly, and I have a drive for writing and I know what I want to do!

I never tried to run, I never disobeyed, and I never turned my back.

I had to learn early on that the world I lived in didn't belong to me; it belonged to them. The Fangers; at least that's what we call them; in nationality, they're vampires. From what I was told, they have been around for centuries. Of course, no one really knows, because no one ever lives long enough to find out; then again, no one cares either. What really matters is survival, and us humans have to survive in the only way we can: submission.

I guess the Fangers realised pretty quickly at how emotionally fragile we are because they put us to good use. We are bred, trained, and eventually sold. Until then however, they keep us in big white houses which are separated by gender and easily distinguished by the large vampiric letters above the front door. They call them Boarding Schools, however not every house is the same, and none are as grand as the one I live in. Unlike most girls who are born here, I was just lucky enough to be left on the doorstep.

It was around the time where I had small hands and little feet, and couldn't understand much. My little heart probably beated a thousand miles a second, but what could I do? I was blindfolded. I remember being told I was a "special one" and could make a good profit before being shoved into a spacious atrium.

"Look at what I have found." The scruffily voice asserted behind me.

Soon after, two women's voices responded and started in a banter:

"Oh dear! What are.. What are you doing with that child?"

"She's awfully dark."

"Maybe she was left outside for too long?"

"She can't be one of ours..."

After a while, I remember my young mind drifting to focus on my surroundings. From what I had detected there was a lit fireplace behind me, and every so often the wood would crackle. The room had to have had little to no furniture, because everyone's voices held a slight echo: "We can just kill her."

It was those words that brought me back to attention, and I suddenly became terrified.

"No but look!" The voice behind had a rumble too it, and I recall feeling a tight grip on my shoulder. "She is a good one. She comes with… a feature."

Calloused fingers scraped up my cheek, so rough that even years later I can still feel the residual effect. "Her eyes!"

The scratchy cloth tied around my face was ripped off, and for the first time in a long time, I saw light. It was awfully dim, and it casted many shadows, but at least I was able see the two women. They were both thin, old, and wealthy-looking. One of them had her hair tied in a bun, but it was hard to focus on details when everything was tinged in shadow.

The one thing I do recall fixing on--and it has haunted me 'till this day--were their piercing, hungry, and glowing brown eyes.

"My devil how they glow!" She's one to talk--the woman on the right had gasped so loudly that it actually hurt.

"Hazel? Almost green. I've never seen that before." The one on the left shifted a step closer, and her bony fingers raised slightly, as if preparing to claw my face.

"If she were paler she could sell double-"

"Or we list her as rare altogether and make triple?" I remember forcing myself to glance upward, just to see the face of the male that brought me in here. But again, I only saw a shadow with gleaming brown eyes.

I don't know how I had held up that long, but it was nearing my breaking point. Some incoherent words were spoken and I instantly crumbled into a sob.

"Shut her up! Throw her in the closet or something."

"Maybe that tan will lighten up too."

And so they did just that. I was left in a closet for days, a week at the most; maybe, I wasn't sure. But my frame was growing too small, and the two women realized that I had to eat someday. My color did lighten up, which made them willing to release me. Eventually, I came to learn both of their names, Miss Jen and Miss Wardingly. Wardingly was the lady of the house, she owned us and was responsible for shaping us into sellable creatures.

If she disliked you, you were treated badly, and if she was fond of you, you were treated worse. Me, I was treated terribly, but it was all because she loved me.

The other girls picked up on it, and so they hated me. It was sick, but even with Wardingly's harshness, they envied not being her favorite. It had its benefits I guess; at least I knew Wardingly would keep me alive. Plus, she showed her affection through needs, so I got more food, more privileges and softer blankets. If there was a fight in the house, Wardingly would side with me.

But, I was punished more, beaten more, and I was never allowed to slack off. My roommates didn't care, in fact, they liked it, it made them feel better about themselves. Some people feared being under vampires for the rest of their life--which was inevitable--but I would rather be with the angriest fanger in the world, than have to spend another night in the room with these girls.

They hated how I was admired by other fangers, they hated being too average, and they hated my eyes. On a daily basis, I overheard conversations of girls plotting to cut them out in my sleep, or just threatening to kill me in general.

It was awful but at least it helped me grow a cold heart. I walked the halls with a certain stoicness that intimated even the toughest of girls. I decided to focus on myself, and develop a drive for my own survival--thus, I became manipulative and silent.

Hopefully, it will all pay off in the end, because tomorrow is the day when my life truly begins. I will be seventeen, and therefore graduating, everything I've ever learned will come down to the one stage where I will be auctioned off to live as a fanger's pet.

It was terrifying, but at least I will be away from this hell.