Disclaimer: The usual, nothing's changed. If I did have SC3, I would be rich, but I don't. cries

Chapter 3: Amy and me

"How long have you been here, Miss Valentine?" Amy looked at me with her blank eyes.

"About 10 years. I married Charles at 16 and officially moved in 4 years later." she held on my hand, like a mother and child.

"Why did you marry that mean man?"

"He was my bothered. Our fathers arranged the wedding."

"Did you love him?"

"No, I never met him before that."

"Do you love him?" her questions were starting to get deep.

"What kind of question is that?" I sternly looked at her. That was a personal question.

"You seemed interested in my father, very interested. I think you like him." she giggled when she said that.

"What! Amy, let me get something straight. Yes, I used to have a crush on him, but I'm over it now. I love my husband very much, thank you."

"That's not the way I look at it…" the girl trailed off, giggling and skipping around me. She was full of energy.

"Here you are, Amy, your room." she jumped back the minute I opened the doors. She had a hissing fit, and showed two pairs of sharp, white fangs.

"Miss Valentine, I can't stand bright light, it hurts me to touch it. Can you please make it darker?" she huddled to a dark corner in the hall. I went and draped all the curtains over the windows.

"Thank you, Miss." she bowed slightly and started to jump on the bed.

"Get in here, woman! We have to talk! Now!" Charles yelled from somewhere.

"Maybe I should ask: Does he love you?" Amy had another remark. I glared before walking off. Time to see what the cow wanted now.

"That girl can not stay! She must be punished!" he shut the door and got straight to the point.

"Punished for something she didn't do?"

"You actually believe that little witch!" he acts like he was surprised.

"I know that children will make up stories to get out of trouble, but deep down; I know she's telling the truth. I can sense it deep in my heart."

"You just like brats too much!"

"Who doesn't like children?"

"Me!"

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Charles." he backed up like I actually struck him.

"How dare you fowl mouth me! That girl has corrupted you! I'm having her killed first thing in the morning!"

"It is the truth, and don't you dare! She's just a child!"

"All who dare to go against me will be executed, no matter what age, size, race, or gender! That is all there is to it!" he stormed out the room and shut the door, locking me in before I could react. You would think that the lady of the house would have her own key, but our blacksmith only made one for him. I heard sounds of Amy screaming and men in armor. I felt a rush of excitement and anger in my heart. I backed up, braced my wing in front of my shoulder since my wing bones were stronger, and rammed the steel door. Just one small dent.

"Put her in the dungeon! Her execution starts tomorrow!" I heard Charles' voice through the door. She was crying, streaming, and sounded like kicking the best she could.

"Daddy! Daddy! Where are you? Miss Valentine! Someone, help!" her cries for help got me up again. I rammed the door again, and again, and again; but to no prevail. The door wouldn't give in, but who said I was going to give up? The sun completely sat and darkness came in the room. Silver blood was all over the door, after all, I wasn't human; and could tell I broke over half the bones in my right wing. I would kick it, if it wouldn't break my foot. I backed up father and rammed at full speed at the door. After over 3 hours of beating, it finally gave in.

I broke through the door, hurt, but free. I didn't like to be in closed spaces too long, it was like a cage. I grabbed a lit torch from the wall and looked around. Not one person in sight. I headed straight for the dungeon.

In the dungeon, Amy was asleep with a guard at the caged boy. I crept around the guards, took the keys off the wall and unlocked the door. I took the young child out the dungeon and up to my room.

"Amy…wake up, Amy." I shook the girl until she woke up. She looked at me with those pure white eyes and hugged me.

"Miss Valentine! Oh my, you're hurt! Your wing's broken! Hold on, I can help!" the little girl sat me on the bed and stretched out my wing. She made a parallel cut to the biggest bone in my wings. Sure, blood ran out, and it really hurt like hell. She grabbed some clean gloves and started to re-align the bones. After that, she aligned the skin and wrapped the wing tightly with some special ointment, after plucking every feather out. My wing felt better after she wrapped it up, and it would heal in record time.

"Thank you, Amy. Where is your father, anyway?" I wondered where he was.

"He'll be here, I promise, when I need him most."