Years ago tragedy struck the Calloway's causing the family to fall apart. Lucariah Augustine St. Francis Calloway was left in the ruins of it all with a mother who couldn't bother and a father who disappeared one night with his older brothers. For...
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The dawn awakens before I've had even a wink of sleep. Terrified that he'll visit me when I'm most vulnerable. I've been through this story before, and I absolutely hated the ending.
I'll be watching. I'll be alert. He won't hurt me like I have been in the past. I won't let it get to that.
Ezekiel and I have entered a war- he played his hand and I'll be patient to play my own; because my hand only has one outcome, and his defense needs to be grander before I introduce it.
I stood by the open window, watching the wind billow through the leaves. Watching some fly away with it and I couldn't help but think of that one saying: About a bad apple falling from a tree.
Over ripped. Given too much care until it turned rotten from the sweetness.
It reminds me of Ezekiel. He was a spoiled child. Always was; long before now his needs were met before any of ours. He was the first child after all. All he had to do was ask.
He's a bad apple. And what do we do with bad apples? We drop it from the tree.
I wiped my knife on my shirt. Marveling in the way the light of the shining sun reflected off it.
It was my favorite possession. It was on me at all times. Would I have the courage to run it through another being if the time came? I think it depends on the situation.
I don't think I'd do it in a fit of anger. Not in the way I threatened Evan. I couldn't actually kill him. Not like that. Not with this.
But if I had to defend myself. I griped the resin handle and turned it over in my hand. I'm sure I would. I'd have to. It's them or me, and while I'm not too keen on the idea of living a long time, I know the way I want to go. And at the hands of another isn't it.
A yawn slipped past my lips and I put a hand to the window pane so I could take in the cold seeping off it.
When it wasn't enough, I stuck my head out the window. Sighing as the wind whipped my hair around.
I wonder, sometimes, what it'd be like to float. To fly. To escape this dull earth and figure out our real purpose.
I'm sure the world looked clearer from up there.
A knock startled me out of my daydreaming and I pulled myself back into the room so fast I banged my head on the window.
I rubbed the side of my head as I swung the door open, squinting my eyes at the fuzzy figure in front of me.
