Chapter One
Gavril
It was 1995 when I first seen the little girl skipping down the street, holding onto her mother's hand. They had just come out from their old run down home on the corner of Johnson St and Main.
As they walked down the street, the mother let go of the little girl's hand, and got onto one knee in front of her.
A tear rolled down the girls cheek as her mother said, "After I find someone, I want you to go to the coffee shop," paused, looking around, "wait there till I come and get you, ok?"
The girl nodded wiping the stray tears from her cheeks and headed into the lit up coffee shop, while her mother started stopping men in the street, asking them if they wanted a good time, and after a few minutes she led one into the ally.
I was disgusted by this, and continued down the dimly lit road, in search for a late night meal.
The next night, I seen them again, but this time there was no skipping down the road, or small smiles tracing her delicate lips. I was later then I usually was, and after seeing the girl sitting in the shop again with her head in her hands, decided to greet her.
Walking into the shop, she looked up at me with her foggy eyes, but then looked back down into her hands, another tear escaping and silently finding its way down her pale cheek. I just stood there and watched her as a small sob came from beneath her tangled black hair.
I was instantly beside her, my arm around her shoulders as another shudder went through her tiny body. I surprised my self when I began to pat her head, letting her lean into me, trying in some way to comfort her. Her sobbing eased, and her now confused sea green eyes looked up at me.
"Who..." she stopped, wiping away the last of the salty tears, "who are you?"
A small smile crept onto my lips, "my name is Gavril, and what is yours?"
"Alya," she paused, looking into my eyes, "can you take me home?" she asked, her voice still shaky.
"Of course."
I picked her up; her head falling to my shoulder, her eyes closed, and carried her out of the shop and to her home. We walked right into the house, no one stopped us, and right up to her bed room on the fourth floor.
I sat on the bed, laying her beside me. Alya opened her eyes, a small smile forming on her lips, and sat up.
"So, how old are you Alya?" I asked, figuring she was 8, maybe closer to 9, because of her height.
"10" she replied simply, the smile fading from her lips.
I studied her for a moment, she is kind of skinny, I thought. Seeing her rub her stomach, I asked her when the last time her ate was.
"Yesterday…"
My heart sank, but then I smiled, she gasped, seeing my large canines. "I'm sorry..." I said, and seen her slowly crawl into the corner. "I wont hurt you, I'll never hurt you Alya," I told her pulling her into my arms.
Alya nodded her head in agreement, and then lay limp in my arms, curling my long dark brown hair in her tiny fingers, telling me anything she could think of to keep herself awake.
Morning came too quick, for I had to leave before the suns rays came over the horizon. I kissed her on the forehead, tucked her in, and promised I would see her later that night.
I spend a year like that, waiting for her mother to leave for the night, and I would come and spend time with her. When I couldn't get to her home, I would sneak into her childish dreams to be with her, and when she was asleep when I got there, I would spend the whole night just watching her chest rise with each breath she took.
Every time I seen her, I learned something new about her. I learned that she had never had a father, that she had exactly 3 friends at school, and only ate every other day because her mother couldn't afford it.
But when the day came when I went to her home and found her crying in the closet, I was heart broken. Her mother had come home earlier that night, and beat her for staying up late to see me.
I decided then and there, that I loved this child, and wouldn't ever let someone hurt her again. So we packed up her few belongings and dollies, and send out for my home.