Prelude: The Start of Things

They always called me a failure,

but I didn't have to be!

Has anyone ever noticed,

that the ones who hurt others,

are the ones who try to hide the most?

I guess it's just me then...

It was a cold winter night in the country-side of Ireland. It was January of 2001, and a young girl about 19 or so walked up the coble stone pathway to her over-sized, castle-like house with her grandfather. She stood about 5'7'' with long silver hair and bright bangs. She had the most stunning silver eyes anyone had ever seen and skin as pale as the moon. With her, her mother and grandfather, they made of family of 3. It was a small famliy, but a family nonetheless.

"I can't believe you lost the competition, Noa!" Her mother barked bitterly once they entered the kitchen; sitting at the table with a bottle of rum craddled in her hands.

"She placed 2nd, Emilie," the older man said weakly, "she's still going to the Olympics next year."

The girl- or Noa looked down at herself in shame; her red bangs falling into her eyes. She reached up to touch the scar on her brow. She felt the dread and fear begin to rise with each shot the woman took. Noa knew what was coming. She also knew she couldn't protect herself, either. So, she might as well as get a few words in while she had a chance to do so...

"I'm sorry... I tried my best..." She whispered in a quiet tone; bracing herself for what was to come...

Whack!

Noa's mother slapped her across the face and sent her falling to the ground. The woman stood over her with a hateful look in her eyes.

"You can't do anything right!" The woman screamed; kicking Noa repeatedly in the ribs.

"What are you doing, Emilie?!" The older man shouted in panic; standing up from his seat at the table. "What will people think?!"

The woman ignored him and kept kicking Noa. "You are such a failure!" She cried out; never stopping her attack.

Noa curled into herself as tight as she could. It was all she could literally do to protect herself. She closed her eyes and held onto her stomach; focusing on the pain.

"I'm sorry! I did the best I could!" Noa pleaded; keeping her eyes closed as she began to cough up blood. "I'll do better! Please! Don't hurt me!

The man reached out and grabbed the woman's arm. "Stop it, Emilie! That's enough!"

The woman growled angrily and saw a knife on the counter next to her. She picked it up and stared into the lifeless metal in her hands. She saw herself staring back at her. She then turned her attention back to the girl lying helplessly at her feet.

"I wish you were never born..." She said coldly; holding the knife in her shaky hands.

Noa coughed a few times, and forced herself on her knees. "Is it really fair to feel that way about your own child?" She asked in a hollow tone; giving the woman a blank look.

The woman screamed in rage, and time appeared to have slowed down around Noa. She didn't even realize that the knife her mother was holding had been embedded into her side until she fell back to the ground; coughing up more blood. Then everything seemed to have sped up all at once. She didn't even get a chance to think about anything other than all the blood that was staining the floor.

'... There's nothing left to do! ...'

After everything caught up to normal speed, the man shaved Noa's mother out of his way, and rushed over to the girl. He helped her stand and quickly got her out of the house, and into the car. He got her buckled in, and drove off into the night.

He made it to the hospital without trouble, and the doctors were actually able to save her life. That wasn't the problem. The real problem was that would be the last time anyone would ever see poor Noa ever again.

But Noa's story doesn't end there. It's just the start of things...