Sang Insane | ✔

Chapter Fifty

E N D I N G     O N E

"Come, Sang. It is time to prepare," Father announces with a harsh and heartless smile.

My time here has hardened me.

My heart no longer leaps with hope when Father smiles.

It has now been a week since I killed Greg.

This week, my nightmares have grown worse and worse. It is a good thing that I am the only one that sleeps here at night. They have guards and cameras, but no one sleeps here so no one has to see my nightmares.

It has now been nearly six months since I got rescued from a life with gaps in my memories.

I try and I try, but I cannot seem to remember certain things. I feel strongly that there is something that I am missing. Something that I am not seeing. A connection, perhaps, that I have yet to make.

It has now been a lifetime of hurt and insanity.

My insanity is to be warranted, though.

"Insanity - a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world."

Could my life truly be described as insane?

Am I just being dramatic?

I'm sure everyone feels like their life is torture.

What makes mine so special?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

This is my life, I just need to be strong enough to deal with it.

Killing Greg snapped something inside of me. It caused me to question things.

Of course I love Father, but why do I love him?

Of course he rescued me, but why did he need to it Mother and Marie were already dead?

If course he loves me, but why does he never show it? Or is it just tough love?

I pull my metal ball behind me and follow Father to where a girl is standing with brushes and a rack of clothes.

"Dress her so she can scare and intimidate," Father orders her.

The girl is a bit taller than I am, so still short, with brown hair that is a mass of curls and frizz down her back. She has grey-green eyes and a splash of freckles covering her nose and cheeks that are dark enough to show through her makeup. She is wearing a lot of makeup, but it is artfully and carefully put on and only enhances her natural beauty. She looks to be fourteen or fifteen years old and a quiet person.

"Hi," She whispers shyly. "My name is Evangelina, but you can call me Lina."

I grin at her, "My name is Sang. I'm glad to see that someone here is a butt."

Evangelina startles, looking taken aback.

I wink at her and she blinks her eyes as if not believing them.

She turns and pulls out a brush and some powder and immediately gets started on her work.

We talk and have a bit of fun, but something feels off. Kinda like she isn't the right person for the job, but I can't see why.

In fact, she is the only person to be this nice my whole time here.

Once she is finished with my makeup, she does my hair putting it in multiple braids. Then she dresses me before allowing me to see what I look like.

In my reflection, I see a fierce, confident, and crazy woman. One with glowing green eyes that promise nothing, twisting braids that reflect my twisting personality, and black that represents where I came from. No longer is the playful, innocent, and crazy girl there. I have grown. I have killed. I have been nearly killed. I have been through hell and came out stronger and crazier.