So, we're going old school tonight and by that, I mean back to the beginning. Skyla was a kid once too and she experienced some pretty intense things in the System. Here's an excerpt from a less than pleasant time in her life.
I’m almost to the end of the hall when I hear them. Noises…
They are soft at first, like whispers
on the wind, tickling my ears curiously.
Drawn by their siren call, I tiptoe further down the hallway. The sounds grow, becoming less like whispered
secrets and more like hushed screams, stirring behind the door of the small
room where we orphans study the Histories twice a day.
Cautiously, I peer through the cloudy
glass that covers the top half of the door.
On the other side of the room stand two dark figures, one small, one
large. Who could that be? Turning
my head, I hold my ear just inches away from the glass. Muffled voices filter through, making it
difficult for me to decipher their identities, but within a few moments, I am
sure the larger of the two is the Head Mistress.
The Head Mistress is a vicious woman; the
kind you are sure is in league with the Devil.
She is tall, but not thin, like
you’d expect. Instead, her massive frame
spills outward at the waist, running down the length of her body, making her
look like a large misshapen tree. And
her eyes! Even now, a shiver runs the
length of my spine as I remember looking into them. They are the very essence of evil, so dark
they are almost black, holding no mercy within their shadowy depths. She could kill with one look if she wanted
to.
A small whimper draws my attention
towards the other figure. I think it
must be…yes, it sounds like the small girl, the one with the yellow hair. She recently transferred from one of the
other cities. Her bed is only three down
from mine in the dorm. Apparently, there
had been behavioral issues. At least,
that’s what I was told, but you can’t always believe what you hear around
here.
Sadness sweeps over me, her tiny voice
drawing me in. I don’t even know her
name yet. She hasn’t been at the
orphanage long enough for me to find out and from the looks of it, she won’t be
staying much longer either.
The girl’s figure looks wavy and
distorted through the glass, like a warped mirror, but there is no doubt in my
mind that she is cowering, completely terrified of the Head Mistress. I know that fear, the shivering feeling that
lingers throughout your body long after having left her presence. My sneaky habits had earned me many first
hand encounters. I dealt with it the
only way I could, by reversing the roles, picturing the old hag in my place
while I whipped her.
A loud crack splits through the air. Smack, smack, smack! Hearing the rhythmic slap of the leather
strips sends waves of hot pain through my body.
The scabs on my back itch in response, reminding me that I had been in
the girl’s place not too long ago. Cringing,
I remember the feel of the material as it bites into your skin, grazes across
your flesh, piercing like a thousand tiny knives. An involuntary shudder runs through my body.
Hope you enjoyed this week's excerpt. See you next week!!!
A
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