I can’t be the girl I once was unless I’m cleansed.
Mother has always told us that we can confess anything to her, that she’ll see us through any troubles we have, but that courtesy never extended to me.
Not after I found my first prop and decided to become a star on camera. She says that by sparing the rod when it came to me, she spoiled the child, but I’ll show her one day.
I wasn’t born a monster.
She fucking made me this way.
Chapter Four
I’ve been staringat my hands as second and minutes of time slip by. The blood has long since dried and I still can’t remember how they got that way.
I slip my thumb into my mouth and begin to suckle away as much of the dried blood as I can while I begin to scan the street rapidly.
No one has approached me yet.
No one wants to help me.
Should I give up? Stay on my own? Try to figure things out? I want to go back and resume my show because I don’t want my customers to feel cheated, but in a way, I feel the most cheated of all.
I let myself down by letting my thoughts take hold of me and forcing me to stop. Not being able to peel back the wrapping on the package frustrated me to the point of feeling like I’d never get the show started and I gave up far too easily.
I’ll make it up to them somehow, I reason to myself as the taste of chipped copper fills my mouth.
“Are you okay?”
I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath into my lungs as I feel my lips slip into a smile.
Finally.
Turning my face toward the sound of his voice, I open my eyes again and continue to suck on my thumb. The man that’s watching me with cautious, light brown eyes is beautiful. I take him in quickly and before I turn my eyes away from him for the slightest of moments, I’ve already become enthralled.
He’s taller than me by half a foot, a severe look to his ruggedly handsome face, and has hair the color of what I know my soul must look like, but the difference is the gray starting to sprout.
He has lightinhim andonhim, whereas I have none.
“I’m lost,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I’m sure the fact that I’m speaking with my thumb still in my mouth won’t help the situation, but I’m not comfortable enough to stop just yet.
He raises an eyebrow as he carefully reaches for my hand and pries it away from my mouth.
“What was that?” he asks gently.
I let out a short laugh as I repeat my words, “I’m lost.”
He looks me up and down for a moment, his eyes resting on the design of my habit. I can tell he’s not entirely sure if he believes me or if he even wants to continue our conversation, but I like the way he looks, so he won’t have a choice.
“Okay, well,” he begins thoughtfully, unable to tear his eyes away from the design, “which direction did you come from?”
I turn my body completely to face away from him. It’s the only way I know how to answer the question and keep my wits about me. I don’t like the way he’s staring at my habit but I don’t want him to leave either.
“Then let’s go that way,” he says gently as he takes a step forward and ends up beside me.
“Okay,” I agree quietly as we begin to walk in silence.
Before this night is over, I’ll have what I want and he’ll give me what he’ll no longer need.
Blood.