Ariella's biggest desire in life has always been such a simple one. She wants to be 'normal.' Unfortunately, that one simple wish has never been within her grasp. Coming from a long line of witches is bad enough, but she's even more different than t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Waking up with a jerk and a scream caught in my throat again, I went on my usual run in my futile attempt to get the haunting images out of my head. I was logical enough to realize that it would never work- I was stuck with those images for life- but it didn't stop me from giving it my best shot every morning.
I returned home, only slightly out of breath, and grabbed one of my Gatorades from the fridge. My mornings were so ingrained into my muscle memory that my body mostly went through the motions without any help from me. The only difference on this morning was that I had time to kill because Lucien had gone out of town for a couple days, and I was free from training.
Lost in my head, I almost bumped into Sara on my way out of the kitchen and grunted in annoyance. My time of avoiding her had come to an end. I was eager for the day she would return home and get out of mine.
"If it isn't the abomination," she said snidely, abandoning any pretense of being nice.
I raised an eyebrow in surprise, not having been called that since her last visit years before. The insult didn't hurt me like it used to. Instead, my lips twitched with the memory of how my mother had blown up at the woman when she'd heard her use the derogatory name. I had seriously worried for the old woman's life that day.
"Why do you call me that?" I asked curiously, never being brave enough to ask her in the past.
She glanced my way, and a smirk crept onto her pale, wrinkled face while she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Because your very existence is an atrocity," she answered plainly, catching me by surprise.
"That's a little excessive, don't you think?" I asked with a chuckle, letting her insults roll right off me and wondering if she really was crazy.
"Not at all." She shrugged dismissively.
Planning to give up, my retreating footsteps were brought to a stop by Sara's voice.
"Tell me something, Ariella." She pointed to the oversized sweatshirt I was wearing with her free hand while she blew on her coffee with a glint of something unrecognizable in her eyes.
At that moment, Julian and Uncle Ben entered the kitchen silently, still looking half asleep, but my focus was solely on Sara's grinning face. Something about the look in her eyes sent a shiver of unease up my spine. It was the same look she had when she introduced herself to Lawrence. She appeared to get some sick joy out of causing me pain. Realizing this, I braced for the unknown.
"Why do you worship that man so much?" She asked, still gesturing to the sweatshirt I was wearing. My dad's old sweatshirt.
Not understanding where she was going with this, I narrowed my eyes at her and shrugged. "Because he was a great man," I responded confidently despite my confusion.
"Oh, Daniel was most definitely that," she agreed with a snort.
I noticed Uncle Ben's back tense where he stood gripping the door of the fridge, but I wasn't surprised by his reaction. We were talking about his little brother, after all. "Don't go there, Sara," he said, shooting a vicious glare her way.
