What's Supposed to be Delicate

by Monstermadde

Victoria was raised in foster homes all her life, never staying in one place for to long. When she finally feels everything is going right for once, she finds her true love, gets accepted into college, gets her own house, something from the most foggy memory creeps, unwanted, back into her life driving her to the brink of insanity.

1. Prologue

Prologue

The bigger of the two called out to her mother, she'd fallen off the porch steps and into the gravel below, leaving a deep gash in her knee. Sadly, there was no parent there to possibly aid the small child as she bled out onto the bare ground, the child had to pay the price for her mother's own self-absorption. She cared not about the child's cries that seemed to surge through the eerie, somber night. Nor did she care for the tiny pink newborn, who lay motionless, silenced by freezing death. She was burdened by greed and lust. For she was much too good for those who cared and depended on her but seemed to always want more.

More tiny trinkets and contraptions that were for her own amusement, the things that made her happy. Yet, the miracle of new life did not satisfy her, these tiny bundles of ignorance did not spark her interest. So she simply laid them on the back doorstep like unwanted animals, hoping someone would come along and raise them as their own so she didn't have to carry the immense strain of having the two in her much too significant life.

Oh, but someone did come. He was a rather tall gentleman, almost unusually tall. He was dressed in a nicely kept suit that fit his form rather well, though the pitch black seemed to clash against his pale skin. The color of his hair, or his eyes, might've made up for this, if he had any. His face was featureless, flawless at most, no eyes, nose, mouth, hair…. Nothing but the indentions where his eyes were supposed to be. The tall man towered high over the crying child, he was close to her, but far enough away so that her desperate grasps did not reach him. She'd been bleeding for quite a while,

unlike her newborn brother, she'd managed to live through the unforgiving night. The tall, slender man stood almost stalk still, waiting to see what the child would do next, thinking, observing. She would pull herself closer to the man only to have him move away again, she suffered, at first the injury seemed to be just a scratch but as it went hours without aid it began to develop an infection making it hard to bend her knee.

"First it's your mother."

The manseemed to grumble.

"Then it's you."

The man had not finished his sentence before he disappeared. Dangerous, but not easily seen. Something he was also burdened with.

Then he left. Leaving the child to scream, unforgiving, scared,

alone.