"Sam!" She is woken with a start at her father's bellowing voice close to her ear, "Sam, wake up!" He yells once again.
She opens her eyes slowly, feeling the pains of yesterday as if they were fresh, "I am awake, Father," She puts a shaking hand to her broken rib as she sits up slowly.
"About fucking time!" He grabs her arm that holds her rib, "Get outside and begin your training," He pulls her down the stairs, she struggles to find her footing, afraid to fall again, not wanting the hot pain to flare any more.
They make their way out of the house to the vast, blank landscape around them that never ended. He finally lets go of her arm only to summon a long, black bone with a pointed end and proceeds to cut several lines into his radius. As he cuts deep into his bone, bright black blood drips onto the flawless white ground, staining it.
"Heal this," He commands, making the magic, floating bone vanish into thin air.
"Yes, Father," She takes several steps toward him, her eyes already glowing a bright, neon green, same color as her long hair that is a ratted mess, not having the chance to untangel it with her fingers. She takes her father's arm with care, being gentle, she runs her hand, glowing with green magic. It swirls off her into his arm, her fingers ghost over the cuts. Quickly they mend, not a trace of the deep laserations from before.
"Such a pitty you can't heal yourself. I'm sick of seeing you limp around. Your so fradgil," He chuckles darkly, grabbing her chin with his newly healed arm, "All it would take is one blast, and you would be but a dust pile on this deserted plain of existance," He pushes her head away with discust, "But sadly, I picked my poisen many years ago," He sighs heavily, watching her pant slightly, "You're tired just from that?" He chuckles once again, "You're so worthless!" He yells summoning a over sized blaster of his own, "Either dodge fast enough, or counter,"
Her eyes flair green once again as a blaster materilizes at her left. She musters all her anger into one shot that blows his blaster into scrambeled, floating black magic. The sight of her father's astonished face brings a smirk to hers as she falls to her knees in exhaustion.
"How dare you!" he bellows, quickly stomping over to her crumpled form. He grabs her by the hair and lifts her off the ground to stair at her tightly shut eyes, "I did NOT tell you, you could fire yet!" He slams her to the ground, then drags her shaking form into the house.
Dragging her weakly fighting body up the stairs, he throws her into her room and slams the door shut.
She hears the front door slam as he leaves. She curls into a small ball on the floor and begins to cry.
Pain, all over. 'Is this to be my existance forever?' She thinks as she makes her way slowly down to the kitchen to find more rags to try in vain to reconnect the newly broken Ulna on her right side, and her broken rib on her left. Hot tears stream down her face as she forces the bones back into place and ties tight knots with the rags. Quickly, they become wet with green blood. As she ties a blue cloth on her rib, the once white rag around her arm falls to the tile floor with a sickening slap.
As she hears the rag slap to the floor, she collapses to the floor with it, sobbing, cradeling her arm, that cradels her rib. Each sob causes her pain as they raddel her bones.
Slowly, she calms herself, thinking back to the few times she tried to run from home, only to come right back, greeted with the back of the house.
She remembers when she asked her father where she had came from. He grunted and told her she was suposed to be blue. 'That stupid being dipped into the wrong color,'
Slowly, she lifts herself back up and ties new rags around her broken bones, then proceeds to fetch her sweater from her room.
Opening the wooden door, she enters her room. Greated with three ten foot walls, then the door. She is envious of her father that had something called a bed to sleep on. One time when he went out, she layed on it and fell asleep for too long. He had found her on the bed, pulled her by the ankles down the stairs and poured boiling water over her legs as punishment. She had learned her lesson well that day. Since that day, she wouldn't even sit on the couch, afraid of the same punishment.
She sits in the middle of her small room, untagling her hair with her fingers, then smoothing it out slowly, waiting for her father to return. Having nothing to do once her hair is done, she puts her head phones on, and escapes the empty world.