A slight breeze lifted the edges of my hair, sending them dancing across my face. The sea span out in front of me, filling my view.
A single tear seeped out from beneath my eyelid, knowing that this would be the last time for me to enjoy this view. I would escape from this place, from the sweet torture that kept me here…
….three years later….
The restaurant was busy, not allowing a second of rest. The storm that raged outside brought in customers seeking respite from the rain. Obviously a bad omen. Lightening flashed, sending the lights to flickering. A small thrill of panic swept up my spine. 'This could not be happening now,' I thought, somewhat desperately.
The Dark. The simple thought of it brought back so many untold memories. Flashes of tangled bed sheets, of the sweet prison from which I ran, but overshadowing all the passion, the sweet innocent thoughts of love, was the pain, not physical, but psychological, cutting deeper than I would allow anyone to see. I forced my thoughts in a different direction, knowing where those dark thoughts led. The cigarette burns, the scars on my wrists, on my thighs, all the pills I still stashed in the night stand, just hoping for the courage to take.
No. I was past that. I just had to see the light. A deep breathe, slow and long to bring me back to my senses. I went back to the customers, being sure not to neglect my duty. The owners of this place were nice enough to allow me to stay with them, so the least I could do is earn my keep.
Allowing work to take over, I overrode all the bad thoughts. From the perverted old men to the clumsy, cute young men. I, of course, was younger than all of them by years, being only months younger than 18, but they were always too drunk to think about me being underage. It never went past the most basic of flirting anyway. Drinking, I mused to myself, I had always wanted to try it, to forget, but then I remember that forgetting, for me, had a price to great to be paid.
Panting, I twisted in my sleep. Sightlessly, my hands sought the comfort of another. No one was to be found in my empty bed. My mind, unaware of my body's attempts for human contact, raged on, leaving me thigh deep in one of my worst nightmares.
A lake of blood surrounded me, staining the world a beautiful, yet terrifying shade of red. A man stood tall in front of me. Tattoo's riddled the man's back, the rest of his body seemed clear of the ink. Suddenly, wings erupted form his back, black as night, only visible because of the sea of blood. Slowly, the man turned and walked towards me, and in a harsh, merciless voice, whispered, "I thought I had trained you well. Do not fear, tomorrow I will find you." He smiled viciously, flying slowly over the sea of blood until I could no longer see him.
Laying in my bed, wide awake, I stared at the clock. 2 a.m. Might as well get up, it wasn't like I was getting anymore sleep tonight. A jog, that's what I would do. The idea popped into my head as if it were placed there.
The fear I usually felt stepping out of the house was gone, leaving only caution as I walked onto the street. A howl pierced the night, making me shiver. There were no wolves in southwest Minnesota.