A/N: I don't own Stoker. If I did, do you really think I'd be writing this?
India remained stone faced and unemotional. She had just killed her mother. Her own flesh and blood. The woman who carried her for nine months. Even though she was her mother, she didn't act like it. India had to take care of her. Their roles were reversed. She looked at the blood stained floor.
"India, we have to go. Get your bag." Uncle Charlie said. His smile devious and proud. He walked toward her. His hand slightly brushing against her cheek. His stare was mesmerizing. He started to lean in. And India decided she didn't mind the touch. She also started to lean in. Charlie's lips met hers. It was soft and chaste but with a hint of passion. Charlie pulled back. His crooked smirk spread out. She stared at him.
"Go get your bag. Meet me in the car." He walked out, not glancing back at all. India's mind was in battle. Charlie was her uncle. She shouldn't be kissing him. It's wrong, yet when she's around him she feels like she's whole. India blinked. She stopped battling with her head.
She walked to her room to grab her bag. On her bed were all of the shoes she's ever received for her birthday. She looked down at her feet. Her traditional saddle shoes were replaced with leather heels. She was grown up. She wasn't a kid anymore, waiting for something to come into her life. That something came into her life the day her father died. That something was Charlie. India took her bag and gave one last look at her childhood room. The room where her father tucked her in at night and read stories to her. She had to put those memories in the back of her mind now. That part of her life was over.
India walked out of her house saw her Uncle leaning against the car. He looked so dangerous and addictive. He was like a crazy James Dean. Charlie grabbed her bag and put it in the backseat.
"Are you ready?" He asked.
"Yes." India answered plainly. She was ready to go to New York. She was ready to be an adult. Charlie started the car and began driving. Soon her childhood home gradually became smaller and smaller in the distance.
