Verboten » H.S. (EDITING)

first encounters

*edited*

"My daughter. My beautiful daughter." My mother's nestling the crown of my head. I can smell her Chanel No.5 perfume and feel her body wrapped around mine.

"Beware the Stilinski's. Look at me! Look what they did!" Her skins melts away and she starts to shriek. I feel her bones poking into my sides and her skeletal hands grip me to her. I want to move, want to get away but I can't. I begin to thrash and scream, begging to be let go.

I gasp and sit up, clutching the crumpled sheets beneath me.

"It was just a nightmare." I reassure myself, wiping my arm across my brow.

I hear my named being called and footsteps pounding down the hallway towards my room. My brother, Nikolai, bursts through my door followed by cousins and other members of our mob. All have weapons in their hands and grim faces. Everyone spans out across my room, looking for the cause of my screams. Their faces turn weary when they find everything secure. 

"What's the matter?" Nikolai asks, "Why are you screaming?" 

I sigh, telling him about my nightmare and he nods understandingly. He orders everyone back to bed before turning to me. 

"I miss her too," He comes over to me and rubs my back, "But, you have to let go. She's gone." He kisses my head, then leaves, shutting the door gently behind him.

I lay back in bed and stare at the ceiling. Nikolai remembers more of her than I do, him being nearly 6 when my parents died. I can only recall pieces of them; my mother's perfume, my father's cigars, the parties that they hosted every first Saturday of the month. My other memories are so blurry I can't decide if I imagined them or if they actually happened.

I'll never forget the pain my brother and I went through after finding out our parents were murdered by the Stilinski's. Des Stilinski ruined my family and Nikolai and I vowed to ruin his.

On my brother's 16th birthday, he was crowned the new boss of the Boykov family gang and appointed the crescent moon tattoo in the middle of his chest. On my 16th birthday, I also received the tattoo and am one of the two females who have it. Although we can have the tattoo anywhere on our bodies, we vowed to keep the mark near our hearts in memory of our parents.

I burned with heat over the thought of the Stilinski's sun tattoos. They got it to mock us, so many decades ago when the feud happened. Their tattoos are of a sun, placed on their chests.

My last thoughts before I slip into a deep sleep are of the many ways I can kill a Stilinksi with my bare hands.

/ / 

I wake up the next morning to the sound of pots and pans hitting each other. As I make my way down the three flights of steps to the kitchen, I walk past my brother's office.

"Vengeance!" someone roars before being silenced by a fist slamming onto, presumably, the desk. 

"Zoelie, a woman makes her prescense known." My brother calls from inside the room. I sigh and grit my teeth before stomping away to the kitchen.

The loud noises are coming from Ana, my brother's wife. She's cooking a large breakfast like she does every morning. Her apron is strained across her pregnant belly. I greet her then put on an apron of my own to assist in cooking breakfast. The dark crescent moon tattoo on her wrists stands out against her pale skin.

Ana was a British-borne writer when Nikolai met her in London when he was 17. She doesn't approve of our unforgiving lifestyle but loves Nikolai despite it. She taught my brother how to be compassionate and we taught her how to defend herself. She's the mother-figure in my life and I couldn't be more thankful for her.