Dexterity

Chapter 1

Hello readers! I have republished this novel and will hopefully work on it some more soon! I hope you enjoy it :)

xoxo Andrea

Preface.

Ability. Forte. Expertise. Skill.

So many ways to say the same thing, Talent.

The thing that shapes us all, that makes us different, it sets us apart from everyone else.

It gives us something we can excel at, something we can be proud of.

Some of us are born talented, others become talented.

I have a talent, but I don't know how it got me here.

Into this dark, twisted world, this place of nightmares.

I sit, arms wrapped around my knees as I survey my surroundings, all is silent, until I feel the presence of others behind me.

I stand up, and turn to find the others watching me, warily.

"Cosette, what is it?" Someone asks.

I sigh, but compose myself, clenching my dirty fists, feeling the callouses on my worn hands.

"They're here." I announce.

The others nod, this is the moment we've all been waiting for.

I don't know how my talent got me here.

But it'd better get me out.

PART I

Chapter 1

My fingers dig into the side of my bed as I get up, running a hand through my messy milky white locks as I walk over to my bedroom mirror to asses the damage of my nightmare.

My shoulders hunch and I let out a small yawn, staring at my broken reflection.

I look like a monstrosity. OK, maybe not that bad, but I'm close to it.

My face is covered in a sheen of light sweat, my hair looks like I accidentally shoved my hand in an electric socket, my face is puffy, splotchy, and my eyes are only half open from how tired I am.

Not the best look for the last day of my school year.

A shower is probably a good start, might help clear my head up for the time being. I sigh and pad out of my room, across the cream carpeted hallway and onto the freezing pastel blue tiles of the bathroom.

Sadly, no one in my family has heard of underfloor heating and I dash across the frosty tiles with a spring in my step. Trying to cover as much floor as possible in as little steps, as the bathroom floor bites at the soles of my feet.

Eventually, I reach my sanctuary, the shower. I waste no time in turning it on and quickly tug off the crumpled mess of fabric that I call my pyjamas before stepping inside.

I yelp as a cold blast of water hits my back and cower in the corner of the glass quarter, waiting by the numerous shampoos and shower gels until the stream from the shower head reaches a bearable temperature. I gingerly step back under the water again and sigh in relief as warm droplets pound against my stiff back.