I watched silently as my younger sister, Mariah, blew-out her fifteen candles with eyes full of hope and glee, she squealing loudly as the last candle was out causing a sudden ring to echo through my ears.
"Happy Birthday, sweetie! Want to open presents," my mother asked gently with a bright smile glued to her perfect features. I will never understand this perfect picture. My parents have always favored my younger sister. No matter how many times they deny it, it's the honest truth. For my fifteenth birthday there was no such thing as cake and presents. Nothing ever involving a celebration. Instead they took Mariah out on a Bahamas cruise-ship, leaving me behind to fend and take care of myself for two weeks. Every birthday has been the same, every passing day has been the same. Depressing and lonely.
"Leah, will you get your sisters gifts. Their on the kitchen counter." My mothers voice spoke, ripping me from my pitiful thoughts and toward my mothers harsh eyes. I nodded my head once, dragging my feet sloppily toward the kitchen. My rich, hazel eyes landed on the pile of bagged gifts resting colorfully on the marble counter. My frown grew deeper as I studied all…seven bags, each one overflowing with goods. Jealousy swirled through my blood as I remembered my sixteenth birthday.
The snow had finally fallen that day and I could remember the happiness that had spread through me as I watched the flakes dab my windows glass. Like the light was finally settling on me. That same day, I remember my mothers harsh words, not once wishing me a happy birthday, but instead demanding me to take Mariah out to play in the snow. I've never looked at the snow the same since.
"Leah, where are the gifts," my fathers voice boomed at me, ripping me from my thoughts and back toward the bundle of bagged gifts.
"Coming," I whispered, taking the handles of the heavy bags and carrying them with both hands. Once I had reached the dinning table where my sister excitedly sat, my fingers were white form the lack of blood-flow.
"Finally, there you are. What were you doing in there? Looking through the bags," my mother questioned as her eyes glazed toward me in hatred. I shrugged my shoulders, not really willing myself to answer that question knowing I'd be the blame either way.
Mariah's piercing squeal caused both my mother and I to turn our heads, staring toward my sister as she ripped through her first bagged gift. My mothers eyes gleamed as she watched Mariah's eyes brighten in excitement.
"Oh my God! You got me a New Moon poster! Oh my God, I've been wanting this for so long. Oh my God, Jacob is so hot," her voice screeched.
Ah fuck, I'm going t have to hear about that fag for the next month. My parents did this to me purposely. They know I hate Twilight, this being the very reason. My sister is obsessed with this Jacob character. She doesn't shut-up about him, its all I hear about. What's sad about it is I know almost everything about this character, from what he wears, to what he looks like, to who he loves, and so on. Like I said, Mariah doesn't shut-up about him.
Her eyes gleamed in even more excitement as she continued to rip through the bag. Two New Moon T-shit's, a New Moon Calendar, more posters, and the New Moon movie. She was finally done with the first bag, and that was just the first bag, I don't even want to know what other New Moon bullshit is in the other six. This is going to be a long night.
My cold, white sheets rested above me nicely as relief spread through me. My body was completely drained after watching my sister rip through each bag greedily, getting everything she had wanted. That everything being every little gadget that they could come up with involving Twilight. Her room is practically filled with Twilight bullshit. It's sickening.
After she was done with presents, my mother finally wanted to cut the cake. My father suddenly got very cheerful. Watching the layers of chocolate frosting drip from his lips and down to his shirt made me want gag, but Mariah just laughed. She was such a Daddy's girl. Pathetic.
My mother denied me a piece of cake. She told me that I had been, lately having an attitude and how I didn't deserve a treat. Honestly I had been expecting that, it's been the same way with every birthday my sister has. I was just a slave, nothing more. On other days, I was the slave with a really bad hair cut or the slave with the horrible figure. But today, I was just the slave. Best day's of my life.
Suddenly, out of the echoing silence that lingered through the quit, dark house came a creak of wood, one that I had never heard in all the years I've lived here. A shrilling jolt of adrenaline rushed through my veins then as my eyes strained to see through the darkness. A dark, glooming shadow stood through my window, it's figure moving toward the windows glass. Relief washed through me then as I realized that I was on the second floor and whatever it was had to be an animal of some sort with wings cause there's no possible way that a human could get to the second floor windows without a very loud ladder. Suddenly I heard the click of the window unlocking and slowly gliding open. The adrenaline was now pulsing through me twice as fast as I realized that an animal could not do that. Oh shit!
With my mind reeled as my body froze, my eyes staring toward the dark figure that stood just outside my windows glass, gliding the window open. With my mind finally kicking into overdrive, I ripped the sheets from my body and stood beside my bed, ripping the lamp that sat on my night stand out of its outlet and holding it tightly in my shaking, sweaty hands. Within that moment, the window was now completely open causing a chilling breath of wind to wisp through my room as the glooming figure crunched over, making its way though my rooms window.
The dark figure was built big, with legs and arms which looked very much human. Suddenly my instincts told me to charge. The blood pulsed through me quickly as I charged toward the figure with the lamp tightly in my, now pale fingers. The figure was now completely in my room, its large structure hovering over me. Within that second, I swung the lamp with my eyes squeezed shut at the force. Sweat glistened down my arms as a very heated hand grasped my right arm, stopping the force of the swing. I squealed quietly as my mind begged for other ideas. I opened my eyes then looking up at my captor. I am such a dumb ass. The one rule on 'How Not Too Be Captured.' Don't get caught. Simple, right?
"Please don't scream," a very gently voice breathed.
Like an alarm had been set off in my mind, I was then trying to rip my arm out of my captors grasp, desperate to escape it's heat. Nothing, not even a budge. My captor was now pulling the lamp from my grasp and setting it gently on the carpeted floor, still hovering over me in the darkness. I couldn't see my captors face in the blackness of my room, but it's figure was fairly large and bold.
Shit. My mind continued to scream as I came to the conclusion that I was fucked. Completely defenseless and weak.
"Please don't panic. I'm not here to hurt you. I just- I just need your help," a gently, but husky voice breathed as I tried to jerk my arm out of it's grasp. Still nothing. Not believing any of this persons bullshit I continued trying to pull my arm away from it's heated hand.
"Please," a voice pleaded causing my body to suddenly freeze. The adrenaline was still throbbing through me as I questioned my next move.
"Can you…can you turn on the light. I need you to believe me when I say I'm harmless," the same voice questioned, pleading me to understand. I was still frozen. My body unsure of how to feel as many different emotions pulsed through me. I was stuck in a bubble of fear, unsure if I should trust my captor. Well, of course I shouldn't. That's the number two rule on 'Stupid Things Too Do When Your Captured.' Aren't I smart?
I suddenly heard a breathy humph as my captor realized that I wasn't moving. Suddenly my captor was dragging me toward the light switch beside my wood door.
Shit, I don't want it to see my face. What if it like's what it see's. I mean, not that I have lot's to like, but still. With that thought, I tried jerking my reddened arm out of its grasps. My captor didn't even budge, just continued toward the light switch. Within seconds, a very bright light blinded me causing me to blink as my eyes started to adjust to the setting.
Blinking I stared up toward a very familiar figure, one I have definitely seen before. His eye were rich, dark and painted in confusion as his hair was just inches long, tussled and dark. His body was bare and sweaty causing his very bold but tense muscles to flex. His whole body was structured with a hint of copper at the skin. All he wore were jean cut-offs that hung low enough to inform me that the cut-offs were all he had on. Just below one of his shoulders was a black-inked tattoo that sat as a symbol too something rather important. The tattoo was also very familiar, as well as the rest of him. Who was he?
As if reading my thoughts he answered me in a rather husky but gentle tone, " My name is Jacob Black. I need your help."