I felt my eyelids drag themselves down as I struggle to stay awake. I couldn't succumb to oblivion until I knew Molly was okay. I sat up off my spot on the floor in an attempt to elude the hands of sleep that tried to pull me back to the cold stone. Chessa stirred in her slumber beside me looking so peaceful, I wondered how she could possibly sleep so peacefully in a place like this. I stared at the wall in front of me letting my mind stray to the other houses I've lived in over the years.
My first house was in a very warm place I remember having to wear thin dresses so I wouldn't overheat. The mistress of the house was a cruel woman Molly and the others had believed that her soul had been carved of ice. I remember her out of all my Masters the best. Maybe because she was the first of so many. As we would clean she would stand over us a stone statue making sure no harm came to her belongings. Her lips would make a thin line that turned down slightly at the very ends, her crystal blue eyes were hawk like as they constantly swept across the room, and her hands were claws; always clenching on to some sort of furniture as she glared down at us.
She was never kind; everyday one of us was beaten for the slightest offence. May it be a streak on the window, or the drapes not being open the slightest inch when they supposed to be shut. I remember clearly my fingers slipping on a fork and watching in slow motion as I fumbled to catch it. She was above me as soon as the forks tip touched the floor. I remember the scorching hot pain as she beat me for the offence. I recall the cry of pain that ripped continuously from my throat. As soon as it had begun it had stopped. I was starting to bleed and even though she was enraged she couldn't tolerate letting her floor be stained by a slave's blood. She dragged me to the slave chambers by my hair and threw me against the wall. That was the last I recalled before awaking to see Molly hovering over me looking as pale as a ghost. The rest of our Masters are a blur of faces to me. Most beat us, several took advantage of us, some worked us until our hands bled and our knees were raw, a lot starved us and some made us wear thin clothes in cold weather.
Loud snoring brought me out of my memories. I looked over at the sleeping form wishing that I were anywhere else but here. I looked towards the door my eyes burning into the wood almost as if doing so would cause Molly to appear in them. I worried for my sister. She was the only family I had left in the world, or that I know of. Our mother had been a beautiful women and Molly had gotten her looks from her. Molly had the same caramel hair that wove down her back in rivers of curls, the same bright blue eyes that over the years have never lost their shine, and the same lightly tanned skin that made it look like she was soaked in the suns rays year round. Our newest Master had seen her and chosen her to be his pet.
"She's never coming back Kenna. Depriving yourself of sleep will only jeopardize you more for tomorrow." Leila's voice cut like a knife through my pounding heart. I had forgotten about the older girl altogether. I turned my sweltering gaze to where she sat perched on the sole windowsill of the room. Molly always wondered how she could get up to the high perch. I had always thought it was some form of dark magic myself. She wasn't like the rest of us in the slightest. Her eyes were so dark you couldn't see an iris, her hair was the same colour and her skin was a ghostly white. "Don't look at me with such hatred child. You have been to enough of these hell holes to know that when a Pet is chosen they never return."
How she knew I was looking in her direction I do not know. I pried my gaze from off her small form and stared intently at the door once more. I would not admit to her that she was right. Pets never return after their chosen and I knew that Molly would never walk through those doors again. I knew this because no Pet has ever gone back to the slaves' cambers after being chosen. They were more important and were to be kept away from the filth to pleasure the Master. "She'll be different." I assured myself. My assurance was met with light airy laughter.
"Go to sleep little one. You need not worry about your sister. She is resting her head on feathers. Worry about ones self and the stone you rest your head on. This Master is good to his Pets. She will not be beaten and will be fed regularly. He is kind to his Pets. He gains their trust and then their love. Your fair sister was lucky to be picked by such a man." Her voice was like silk as it slipped between her pale pink lips. The soft words cut like thorns nevertheless; I knew deep inside myself that she was speaking the cold truth. I felt myself slowly curl into a ball as my soul cried out not to give up any hope. I felt a tear fall from my eye as they gently shut accepting the warm hands of sleep. For the first time in my life I was truly alone in the world.