So I'm writing again! Yay! Took me long enough didn't it? Okay, only one thing I want to point out. When you come to the part where Vilora says "…my ass," (actually the word "ass" might appear a few times) I didn't write that. Lauren did, because I don't like to curse. Or say bad words. Also, at a few points, they were really bad and needed to be changed, so Lauren contributed a lot. So Lauren deserves some credit. Okay, so read please!
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"Vilora! Get your lazy ass up here this instant!" shouted a shrill voice. Vilora sighed, and put down the greasy pot she had been scrubbing.
"It sucks to be a foster kid," Vilora muttered. Quickly, she left the kitchen and ran up the stairs, heading for her guardian's room. When she entered the room, a dark blue dress was flung in her face.
"Look at that! Look at it!" screamed a woman. "My dress is completely wrinkled! How am I ever going to wear this? Why didn't you iron it after it dried? You are most definitely the worst excuse for a foster daughter as there ever was!" finished Vilora's foster mother in that shrill voice of hers.
Well of course it's wrinkled you old hag, thought Vilora annoyed. You just threw it in my face.
"Raine was supposed to take all of the clothes and iron them after they dried," replied Vilora.
"Well she couldn't!" answered the woman viciously. "She had to go nurse her dear old uncle back to health, because he is fairing poorly. God bless her soul," here the woman softened her tone, "what a truly caring hired help she is. Much better than you, you ungrateful wench!" The venom came back into the woman's voice. "Now go iron this dress and all of the other clothing that didn't get ironed from yesterday's wash!" Then she was gone, and Vilora was left behind.
Stupid Raine, Vilora thought angrily as she gathered all of the clothes that needed to be ironed. Nursing back her dear old uncle my ass. She should be helping Cookie, instead of being off at the tavern, getting drunk and flirting with strangers. One of these days she's going to come back pregnant, and who's going to get blamed? Me. Somehow, someway, I'll get blamed. I always do. Vilora shook her head sadly as she walked downstairs and out the back door. She set up the ironing board and grabbed the heated iron off the burning coals in the backyard. Vilora was so immersed in her own thoughts, however, that she didn't notice a tall figure come out into the backyard and stand behind her.
"Hello Vilora," a deep voice said. Vilora jumped, startled, but didn't turn around.
"What do you want?" she asked coldly.
"Is it so wrong to want to talk to you and see your pretty face?" the young man behind Vilora asked as he turned her around.
"Don't touch me," snapped Vilora as she squirmed out of the young man's grasp.
"Aw Vilora, stop being so mean. Here, I know what will warm you up. How about a kiss?" The young man advanced on her, as she fumbled around behind her for the iron.
"Stay away from me Ajax!" she cried as she thrust out the iron in self defense. The young man stopped dead in his tracks and eyed the iron warily.
"I'd put that down if I were you," he warned.
"I swear, if you come one step closer, I'll burn you so badly-"
"Now Vilora, let's be reason-"
"I'm warning you. I will use it." Vilora couldn't forget the other times Ajax had caught her unaware. Because he was much bigger, he could easily overpower her. She mentally shuddered at the mere memory of them. Luckily for her, he hadn't been able to go as far as he would have liked because his parents would call for Ajax or Vilora and she was able to get away. Still, she hated being around him and she constantly was on her guard whenever he was near: she knew what he would do, given the chance, and she didn't like it one bit.
"Alright, alright," Ajax gave in, and held up his hands. "I'll leave you alone…for now," he smirked as he walked back into the house. Vilora stood there, afraid to put down the iron, in case Ajax returned. After a few minutes, she continued to iron, occasionally glancing up at the back door, to make sure no one was there. Vilora paused for a moment, as tears began to well up in her eyes.
I hate my life.
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"Cookie, did you have a rough life when you were younger?" inquired Vilora, as she helped the cook clean up the dinner dishes. Cookie was by far the most compassionate and sympathetic person in Vilora's life, and Vilora enjoyed talking to her after dinner.
"Mine was alright," replied the cook, "but don't you go complaining about your life. Be thankful for what you have. You've got food, a warm home, and a roof over your head. There are a lot of people out there who can't say the same."
Vilora remained silent as she dried the rest of the dinner dishes. Cookie glanced over at her worried.
"Would you like to hear a story?" asked the cook. Vilora shrugged her shoulders and sat down at the kitchen table.
"Now. Have you ever heard of a man named Sephiroth?"
"Yeah," replied Vilora, "isn't he supposed to be some really evil guy?"
"Yes," said Cookie, "but do you know why he is so evil?"
"No," answered Vilora, as she began to take an interest in the story. "Why?"
"Well," began Cookie. "It's been said that he draws his power from the darkness itself, and that he had to give up his soul to receive such dark powers. He's supposed to be quite powerful, and I'd rather cross paths with the devil than take him on!" Cookie paused for a moment and furrowed her brow. "There are always these awful stories about him and what he's done to people in the past. One such story is rumored to have taken place fifteen or sixteen years ago. Supposedly, Sephiroth raped a young woman and she gave birth to a child. However, not long after the baby was born, the mother was found dead in her apartment, and the child was gone. No one knows what happened to the baby, though some people think it was Sephiroth who came back, killed the mother and took the child."
Vilora's eyes were wide open after hearing the tale. "Was the baby a girl or a boy?" Vilora questioned.
"No one's sure," responded Cookie.
"The poor kid," Vilora said sympathetically. "He or she must be having a tough life, wherever they are."
"I imagine so," replied the cook. "Now off to bed with you! You've got to get up early to do a few chores before school. Now shoo!" clucked Cookie as she waved her hands at Vilora. Vilora groaned and headed upstairs to her bedroom. She got into bed quickly, and laid there for a while, thinking.
I wonder who that kid is, thought Vilora. That must be hard, not ever knowing your mom and your dad being Sephiroth who raped and killed your mom. Vilora turned over on her side. I never knew my mom either. Or my dad. I wonder where they are now… Vilora thought as she drifted off to sleep.
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Vilora woke up refreshed the next morning, did her chores, and headed off to school. When she returned home, she found the house oddly quiet, as if no one was home.
"Hello?" she called down the empty hallway and through the vacant rooms. "Is anybody home?" No response.
She wandered down the hallway, peeking into rooms, but still found no one. She was just passing her foster father's study, when she heard voices behind the closed oak door. She paused, trying to identify the voices. The whiney, nervous voice was her guardian's but the second voice she couldn't distinguish. It was deep and smooth sounding, radiating calmness and authority. She was about to walk on, when the door opened and out came her guardian.
"Vilora!" he exclaimed startled. "Oh, good. You're just the girl I need."
He ushered her into the study and closed the door behind her. Vilora gazed at the room around her, until her eyes alighted on a man sitting in a chair before her. He was wearing high black boots that came up over black pants. He had on a black leather coat that was exposed at the chest and had large metal plates covering his shoulders. Across his chest were two leather straps that criss-crossed, and some sort of insignia beneath them. He had long silvery hair, and the most striking green eyes. Yet the strangest thing about him was that he had a huge black wing. It stuck out from the right side, but didn't have another wing accompanying it from the left. He also had strapped to his side an extremely long sword, which dangled from his waist, down to the floor, and across it some ways. The man stood up when Vilora entered the room.
"You look like your mother," said the man as he eyed Vilora. "So young and beautiful. Except, you have my eyes."
Vilora frowned, looking puzzled. "Wait a second. You knew my mom? And I have your…"
"Yes," answered the man. "I knew your mother, but vaguely. And yes, I am your father.
Vilora stood there, not knowing what to feel. Here was this man claiming to be her father, yet something didn't seem right.
"Wait, I don't understand," Vilora said confused.
The man sighed, frustrated. "You haven't figured it out yet?"
Vilora shook her head.
"I raped and murdered your mother. I brought you here to be raised, isolated from the world around you. I've kept you here, until I was ready to come back for you. That time has come."
Vilora gasped, when she realized that she was the baby in the story. She was the poor kid whose mother was raped and killed by her father. She was the poor kid who got whisked away from the outside world, never to be heard of again. Which meant…
"You're Sephiroth," whispered Vilora as all the color drained from her face.
"Yes," replied Sephiroth, with an evil glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face.
"No…No! It can't be!" cried Vilora and she dashed from the room.
"Vilora! Stop!" shouted Vilora's foster father as he lumbered after her. However, he was much to slow and clumsy to catch her. Vilora burst through the front door, to see Sephiroth standing in front of her. He grabbed her with lightening speed, and held her in a vice grip.
"Where were you planning on going?" he asked maliciously.
Vilora would have been dragged off then and there, if it wasn't for her bumbling foster father. He lunged out of the door, knocking into Sephiroth who then let go of Vilora, making it possible for her to escape. She ran off, pelting down the street, weaving in between houses until she arrived in the center of the village. She didn't know what happened to Sephiroth or her foster father because she hadn't heard them for a while now.
Vilora ducked into a side street and sat behind some trash bins. She then huddled up, and sobbed herself into a nightmare ridden sleep.
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