My eyes searched the crowd hoping to find what I was looking for. Did she miss her flight? Did she get on the wrong plane? These were the kinds of questions that ran through my head.
Now, I'm not the kind of person that worries a lot, but today, I was a nervous wreck. You see, my mother and I used to live in France until I was four, but then my mum sent me to England to live with a good friend of hers named Maribel Dubois. I know what you're thinking, “Why would your own mother want to do that?” Well, it's quite simple actually.
My mum is a single mother that isn't rich. She had to work all day while I stayed at a day care. Things began to get hard for my mum, so she contacted Ms. Maribel and there I went. I've been living in England for nine years without seeing my mum, and now, she was able to save up enough money to come to England.
Ms. Maribel laid a firm hand on my shoulder. I guess she could tell that I was stressed. “Don't worry dear. Your mother is coming.” she said, softly. I nodded my head, but I still had that feeling in the back of my head that she might not show up.
Then, I saw her. Her eyes were soft and mellow. Her long, silky, white hair swayed as she walked towards us. Behind her, she dragged a small suitcase. When she saw us her eyes lit up. I ran to her and hugged her. She smelled like the same perfume she always wore when I was a kid.
“Dorothy. Dorothy.” she kept repeating my name while petting my head. “Tu m'as manqué tellement.” she whispered. I felt a little bad. I barely understood what she had just said to me. After all of these years of speaking and learning English, I had lost most of my French. She pulled me away to look at me. “I am glad to see you.” she said. “I am sorry if my English is bad, but I am still learning.”
“It's alright mum.” I said.
“Nadia, it is great to see you again.” Ms. Maribel said, her brown eyes kind and soft. “It is nice to see you too, Maribel.” Mum smiled.
“I thank you for caring for Dorothy all of these years.”
It felt good to step inside the warm car; outside was cold and damp. All the way to the car, Ms. Maribel and mum were speaking to each other about stuff I didn't even understand (they were speaking in French.) I fastened my seat belt and gazed out the window. All I saw were people walking around or talking to each other. I don't know why, but my eyes fell on a guy dressed up as a butler from the history books. Well, then again, everyone was wearing jeans and a sweater, and this guy was dressed like some kind of eighteenth century weirdo.
The man was tall, with short, black hair. He was staring at something in our direction. At first I thought he was staring at something next to us, but then I realized he was staring at me. I know it sounds ridiculous, huh? But I'm pretty sure the man was staring at me because my scar began to hurt. You see, I have a scar that's on the right side of my hip.
I always thought it was cool because it looked like a crescent moon. When I was little, I used to ask my mum and Ms. Maribel where I got it from, but they would only tell me that I had to have some kind of surgery there when I was an infant.
I never really questioned their explanations, but I did find it peculiar that whenever I was around certain people, it began to ache. I used to complain about my pain to my mum and Ms. Maribel, and they would always have this worried look on their faces, and get out of the place as quickly as possible dragging me along. I began to feel bad about worrying them so much, so I stopped telling them.
I turned my head, feeling intimidated. I kept feeling chills running up and down my back.
“Are you okay?” Ms. Maribel asked, she was watching me through the mirror. “Um, yes, I'm fine. Sorry, I'm just a bit tired.” I lied.
My mum turned around to look at me, her eyes seemed to be filled with worry. “
Really, I'm fine.” I said, quickly.
Mum took one last look at me, then turned back around. The rest of the ride home was quiet and a bit awkward.
After dinner, I took a quick shower then headed off to bed. I quickly changed into my night wear before turning in for the night. I closed my eyes, and tried to relax, but my scar was still throbbing with pain.
“Ah, damn scar.” I cursed, slapping a hand on it with my eyes still closed.
“That mark is very important. I advise that you treasure it more than scorn it, My Lady.” I heard a voice say next to me.
My eyes popped open, and I sat up, alarmed. Standing at the edge of my bed was the man I had seen earlier. I began to scream, but suddenly he was in front of me, and his gloved hand was over my mouth.
“You would not want to do that, My Lady. After all, I did not come here to harm you. I merely came for your help.” he said, calmly.
“This guy's crazy.” I thought. “I have to let someone know he's here, but how?”
Without much thought, I banged my fist against the wall behind me. The walls of this house are thin, and it helps that Ms. Maribel's room is right behind mine.
With only one hand, the man pushed me down. “I guess we will be taking our leave quickly then.” he said.
I struggled and whined, but I still couldn't wiggle out of his strong grasp. The man pulled off his white glove with his mouth, exposing the back of his hand. His fingernails were black. On his hand was a glowing indigo pentagon. I heard the door slam open. I saw Ms. Maribel and mum staring, horrified at the man that was standing in front of me.
“No, you can't have her!” I heard both my mother and Ms. Maribel scream, running towards him. He held the palm of his glowing hand to his eye. They seemed to be running so slowly, and gradually, things began to get darker. Suddenly everything was dark and silent.
I was no longer in my room. I don't know where I was. I just sat in a dark nothingness. Black feathers began to slowly fall. I heard heavy footsteps, and then the man appeared out of the darkness.
His eyes were piercing and glowing a shade of red. I don't know why, but I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I began to feel dizzy, and everything became a blur. My eyes became heavy. Uncontrollably, they closed, and all became black.
