A/N:
I beta, but I've never actually published anything I've written before. Nervous! =)
Just give me an honest opinion. I really do prefer to beta. Not sure if I should continue with this, but the muse consumed me. ^_^
Well, take it for a test run, and tell me how it goes. Also, I revised this myself, so if you see any random errors or improvements that could be made, please, tell me! I accept flame, as long as it's "horrible writing" flame and not "my personal opinion without any fact or having read the fic" flame. lol.
She listened at the door, but didn't hear a sound- not the creak of a door that refused to stay silent, or quiet footsteps scarcely heard. No, no one was out there. No one would find her. This was how it should be, how it was always meant to be. She deserved this. To be alone. Sinking to the floor, she curled up into a ball and shook.
A knife appeared in her hand, and this puzzled her. She didn't remember pulling it out of her pocket. She didn't even remember putting it into her pocket. And yet... there it was. The knife glittered in the sunlight, ready and waiting. The seconds ticked by as she stared at it, trying so hard to resist she thought she might burst. A dull buzz began in her head, causing flashes of memories to come crashing back...
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She wasn't worth anything, and she knew it. He'd said she was a worthless little orphan, who took his food and his shelter, and gave nothing back, and it was true. So she tried to make up for it, since she was an honest girl. Still, she couldn't ever make him happy, no matter how she tried. Everything she did was wrong. Sitting still when he had the belt; not tattletaling, because it was a bad thing to do; taking off her clothes all by herself and cleaning up afterwards. Anything he asked, she did, inwardly hoping for a tiny scrap of love. Something to get her by. One day, he gave it, in the form of a little raggedy bunny. It was worthless, like her, he'd said, but she kept it with her always. And when they took her away from the only foster parent who had ever given her something, she cried.
Next year, a new home. Many parents had wanted to take her in, with her blonde hair and beautiful eyes. She knew what lurked behind kind faces. Her entire body ached, a throbbing pain that refused to lessen no matter how she tossed or turned in the little room she had all to herself. Some people might call it a closet, but she knew it was the only place the new parent wouldn't bother her. It was too small for him to come in, but that didn't mean he couldn't call her out... and if she didn't come, well... it would hurt more later. So she would, if he called. But he didn't, and she was content to nurse her wounds in solitude, hoping against hope that just maybe she could leave this place one day, and return to the bunny man.
Four years later, she was taken out of that home. Four long, agonizing years, that she didn't speak about to anyone. She was 12 now, and knew exactly what a shrink was supposed to do. But she knew that shrinks weren't there to care, they were paid to care. What good would it do her anyway? Sitting there with the therapist once a week, she could feel her mind buzzing around, almost ready to suddenly awaken and spit out whatever she was thinking of. But she bit her tongue, and held it in. Don't let anything show. Her mantra. When she had killed the ones who had tried to take her bunny, that was what she thought. When she first learned to pickpocket, her little mantra worked there too. The first time she had gotten caught, it fashioned her escape. It was a way of life.
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Sophie opened the door to reveal drops of blood shining in the moonlight on the wooden floor of the Leverage Offices.
Parker sat curled up, knees to her chest with arms resting above them. Her left arm leaked blood, with a glistening scarlet-tinged knife in her right hand. There was a grimace of relief on her face as she drew the knife along her skin, not realizing Sophie was there. She continued the line to the end of her forearm, gazing with fixation at the contrast between the pale white skin of her inner arm and the deep red of the blood. Wiping the knife on the inside of her shirt, she folded it up and slipped it into her pocket. The memories were gone, and the thief glanced up, feeling oddly numb, and hoping to fall asleep in her office. A stunned Sophie loomed above her, staring in disbelief. Fear paralyzed Parker as she realized someone had seen her. Why should it scare her? And yet, it did. So she ran.
"P-Parker?" Sophie finally stuttered. "W...What are you...?"
Oh. she thought. Oh.
She blinked, and in that second Parker was gone. The curtains rustled in the wake of her passage out the window. Frozen in place, Sophie's mind awakened from where it had frozen, and the wheels began turning.
A/N: So, continue? Suggestions? Random planned plot line for this story you'd like to share? Review or PM!