The 21 year old female rocked in her chair facing her mirror. She stared at her reflection and sighed,

"Why can't I be normal?" Night said to no one in particular.

She unwound the grey scarf covering her hair and watched as her hair tumbled down to her waist. Night was named after her hair, for it resembled the night sky. Tiny stars shimmered as she pulled it back into a messy ponytail and tied it back with a purple hair tie.

The woman stood up and changed her clothes. She pulled on a pair of dark skinny jeans and her favorite lace up black boots. For her top she wore a simple black camisole with a forest green top draped over her shoulders. This shirt was very loose and was low cut in the front, and laced up in the back with brown cord.

Pulling on her soft leather gloves, she walked over to her mirror and made sure no skin besides her face and upper collar was covered. Night sighed when she noticed that her tattoos were showing on her lower collar bone.

Oh well

As far as Night knew, she had been born with these tattoos, if you could call it 'born'. The tattoos were a pale silver that shone in the moonlight and wound their way up her arms, legs, and torso, only stopping at her collar bone. The silver designs spiraled off every which way and were strikingly beautiful with her hair and spotless skin.

This is why Night covered her self up, the attraction to her was so strong it was dangerous. Long ago she had told herself that she would be forever alone, she couldn't love somebody without them trying to possess her. Then came the society.

Night didn't know exactly who was in it or what the real name of it was. She called it the society, and this society saved her life. When she tried to kill herself by throwing herself off a bridge they came for her. They had noticed her striking beauty and trained her with weapons. Night's preferred weapon were her twin silver knives which at this moment were strapped to her thighs, though she could wield a gun just fine.

Night was used for the jobs that included getting information. She was to seduce the men with her soft curves and striking gold eyes to get the information the company needed then murder them. Night hated her job, but if she didn't do what was required, they wouldn't kill her, they would torture her. Unfortunately, Night found out this little catch the hard way. She couldn't make herself kill a 19 year old. The boy had shaggy honey brown hair and blue eyes and, sadly, he had the information the Society needed.

They dragged Night back to the Society's base, but not before killing the boy in front of her. Back at the base they took knives and drew on her back with the blades before leaving her out in the cold. An injury like that should have killed any normal person, but Night healed remarkably quickly. Night crawled back to her apartment and tended to her cuts the best she could, but in the morning, not only did her back feel like it was on fire, there were white scars running down her back from where they cut her, standing out on her natural tanned skin. That night she made a decision. A decision that she was getting carried out now. Tonight she was leaving the Society… for good. Night was running away.

Night clicked her tongue and a black kitten came running out from beneath a chair.

"Hey sweetie, lets go!" Night said as she tapped her fingers on her multicolored purse. The kitten rubbed it's tiny head against Night's legs, then jumped up and curled up in the purse. That purse and a backpack on Night's back contained all she wished to bring with her. Night stepped out of the door and onto her balcony.

"Ready?" she whispered to the black bundle in her purse,

Her kitten, Sushi, purred in response. Night took heaved a breath and hoisted her self over the balcony, and without looking back, jumped off onto the roof below.