Chapter two! Woohoo. I am sure thousands of you were quivering in
anticipation for this fic! Yeah, sure. Anywhoz, thank you to those three
reviewers! I really appreciate it. This is once again in the girl's POV.
Here you get to learn her name. o0o0o0
***********************************
I heard the rain pattering, yet there were no windows to see out of. I felt a damp cool draft creep across my skin. I could tell that I was facing my closet, my room door was open about an inch or two, and there was someone at the end of my bed. I noted all of these things and I had barely drifted out of my silent sleep.
I open my eyes and yet I see nothing. Just the same oblivion I have seen for the past 18 years. My glazed pale green eyes continue to stare continuously forward, giving up trying to see years ago. I have given up hope of seeing after my whole life of praying and hoping and dreaming.
I am able to dream, just like everyone else. I just don't dream like other humans. I dream emotions and not visions. Not even in my dreams am I able to see. My hands grip my blankets at my forgotten anger.
"Tanasee," I heard his voice from the bottom of my bed. I had never seen my Master but I knew every tone of voice he ever used, his aura and how it crept across my skin, his beautiful smell, the silkiness of his skin. And how he said my name made me smirk and loosen my death grip on the innocent sheets.
"Morning Master," I greeted him simply as I pulled off the blankets from my stick figure form, exposing my simple pair of pajamas. Or at least they felt simple. Master Jaguar insists that they are the best, which I doubt.
"You have work to do," he replied simply before I heard him leave. Shaking my head, I walk barefooted across the cold floor to my drawers, where I pick up my brush and attack my hair. As a child I asked about colors, shapes, and all immature nonsense. What color was my hair? I asked him once. The color of melted chocolate. That was his response. I had no idea what that color looked like, and I still don't. Asking questions like that I found out that I had the eyes of the sea (which I am not sure what a 'sea' is), the skin the color of snow (I know what snow is. It's that cold wet stuff that falls on my face during winter) and had lips that were so pale that they were the color of a pale pink rose. Yet I am not sure what that means.
Am I beautiful? I had asked Master Jaguar this as well and he laughed. "You are the definition of beautiful," he answered with a chuckle. "If it weren't for your eyes, Midnight vampires would be head over heels to buy you just to put you on their trophy case." I do not know what a trophy case is. I set down my brush and guide my hand down to my top drawer.
A few minutes later I am dressed in attire that I will never know the color of. My hair I have pulled back into a tight bun on the back of my head. That makes me proud, as frivolous it may sound. Have you ever tried to put your hair up without looking? Just imagine trying to do that every day.
"Tanasee, ready?" I do not turn around. Not like I could see him anyway. Andrew was the only other slave that bothered talking to me. He was nice, but he was not Jaguar's. Infact, he belonged to Gabriel. But that vampire never really cared for male slaves. I caught Gabriel's eye, but then when he realized that I couldn't catch HIS eye, he let me be. Well, I suppose I could catch his eye if it was thrown at me . .
"Yes Andrew," I replied sweetly before I walked across my room to my closet. 10 steps exactly. Andrew, even after knowing me for two years, was still surprised that I never stumbled over anything, while others who could see did. Unless someone decided to move furniture around, I was just as graceful if not more than others when it came to movement.
"Yes Andrew what?" Came another voice and I stopped midway to the floor. My body froze. Once again the taste of my own blood seems to come back to my tongue as I remember my last beating. I had not meant to . . . .
"I was going to help Andrew wash dishes Sir Gabriel," I answered confidently, although I almost choked on the Sir. I only called Jaguar Master, no matter how many beatings would result in my stubborness.
"What did you say pest?" I felt his aura sweep across my skin just before he pulled my bun and harshly yanked me to my feet. The pain jolted down my body but I did not struggle. Not with Gabriel. He thought I was an attractive slave but as stupid as I was blind.
"I was going to wash dishes, Sir," I finally answered submissively, swallowing my nonexistent pride. He seemed satisfied as he threw me back down on the ground. He was gone a minute later and I did not feel bad when Andrew did not come to help me up. I hate being pitied just because I cannot see. Being blind is probably the easiest disability I can think of to have. Your other senses are more important.
"So, you washing or drying?" I shook my head as I pushed myself up, rubbed my knee, and shrugged. This was my life. Washing dishes and keeping Master Jaguar company.
"I suppose washing," I replied as we made out way down to the kitchen. And while Andrew walked into things, I never came close. Infact, just as Andrew was about to walk into a table I turned around and put out my hand. Only then did he look down and blush embarrasingly.
"Oops," he muttered before going ahead. Nope, no thank yous. Those are rare in Midnight.
***********************************
I heard the rain pattering, yet there were no windows to see out of. I felt a damp cool draft creep across my skin. I could tell that I was facing my closet, my room door was open about an inch or two, and there was someone at the end of my bed. I noted all of these things and I had barely drifted out of my silent sleep.
I open my eyes and yet I see nothing. Just the same oblivion I have seen for the past 18 years. My glazed pale green eyes continue to stare continuously forward, giving up trying to see years ago. I have given up hope of seeing after my whole life of praying and hoping and dreaming.
I am able to dream, just like everyone else. I just don't dream like other humans. I dream emotions and not visions. Not even in my dreams am I able to see. My hands grip my blankets at my forgotten anger.
"Tanasee," I heard his voice from the bottom of my bed. I had never seen my Master but I knew every tone of voice he ever used, his aura and how it crept across my skin, his beautiful smell, the silkiness of his skin. And how he said my name made me smirk and loosen my death grip on the innocent sheets.
"Morning Master," I greeted him simply as I pulled off the blankets from my stick figure form, exposing my simple pair of pajamas. Or at least they felt simple. Master Jaguar insists that they are the best, which I doubt.
"You have work to do," he replied simply before I heard him leave. Shaking my head, I walk barefooted across the cold floor to my drawers, where I pick up my brush and attack my hair. As a child I asked about colors, shapes, and all immature nonsense. What color was my hair? I asked him once. The color of melted chocolate. That was his response. I had no idea what that color looked like, and I still don't. Asking questions like that I found out that I had the eyes of the sea (which I am not sure what a 'sea' is), the skin the color of snow (I know what snow is. It's that cold wet stuff that falls on my face during winter) and had lips that were so pale that they were the color of a pale pink rose. Yet I am not sure what that means.
Am I beautiful? I had asked Master Jaguar this as well and he laughed. "You are the definition of beautiful," he answered with a chuckle. "If it weren't for your eyes, Midnight vampires would be head over heels to buy you just to put you on their trophy case." I do not know what a trophy case is. I set down my brush and guide my hand down to my top drawer.
A few minutes later I am dressed in attire that I will never know the color of. My hair I have pulled back into a tight bun on the back of my head. That makes me proud, as frivolous it may sound. Have you ever tried to put your hair up without looking? Just imagine trying to do that every day.
"Tanasee, ready?" I do not turn around. Not like I could see him anyway. Andrew was the only other slave that bothered talking to me. He was nice, but he was not Jaguar's. Infact, he belonged to Gabriel. But that vampire never really cared for male slaves. I caught Gabriel's eye, but then when he realized that I couldn't catch HIS eye, he let me be. Well, I suppose I could catch his eye if it was thrown at me . .
"Yes Andrew," I replied sweetly before I walked across my room to my closet. 10 steps exactly. Andrew, even after knowing me for two years, was still surprised that I never stumbled over anything, while others who could see did. Unless someone decided to move furniture around, I was just as graceful if not more than others when it came to movement.
"Yes Andrew what?" Came another voice and I stopped midway to the floor. My body froze. Once again the taste of my own blood seems to come back to my tongue as I remember my last beating. I had not meant to . . . .
"I was going to help Andrew wash dishes Sir Gabriel," I answered confidently, although I almost choked on the Sir. I only called Jaguar Master, no matter how many beatings would result in my stubborness.
"What did you say pest?" I felt his aura sweep across my skin just before he pulled my bun and harshly yanked me to my feet. The pain jolted down my body but I did not struggle. Not with Gabriel. He thought I was an attractive slave but as stupid as I was blind.
"I was going to wash dishes, Sir," I finally answered submissively, swallowing my nonexistent pride. He seemed satisfied as he threw me back down on the ground. He was gone a minute later and I did not feel bad when Andrew did not come to help me up. I hate being pitied just because I cannot see. Being blind is probably the easiest disability I can think of to have. Your other senses are more important.
"So, you washing or drying?" I shook my head as I pushed myself up, rubbed my knee, and shrugged. This was my life. Washing dishes and keeping Master Jaguar company.
"I suppose washing," I replied as we made out way down to the kitchen. And while Andrew walked into things, I never came close. Infact, just as Andrew was about to walk into a table I turned around and put out my hand. Only then did he look down and blush embarrasingly.
"Oops," he muttered before going ahead. Nope, no thank yous. Those are rare in Midnight.