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CHAPTER ELEVEN...
The next day, I wake up among a dizzying amount of plush pillows and blankets, all bearing down on me like they're trying to suffocate the life out of my body. I sit up, wiping sleep from my eyes and look around to where I'll be living for the next few weeks (or year, I'm not really sure).
My bedroom reminds me of the ones I read about in books. It feels like a fairy tale, a living, breathing dream that presents itself to me in the form of a four poster bed, ornate curtains, and several couches thrown about on the carpet. The room must be as big as a small house, and two doors face me as I lean back against the cloth backboard. Sunlight peeks through the curtains on either side, they bathe their warm light over my night-gowned body.
Everything seems so surreal. Only two days ago, Azazel held me close as Shaw terrorized the CIA facility, almost killing Darwin, and taking Angel with him in the process. It was only two days ago that I was almost a prisoner again, a pawn in Sebastian Shaw's cruel and unjust game.
I throw off the covers and place my feet on the carpet. The cotton flattens beneath my toes, soft as the coat of a lamb. I walk over to the curtains --my hair falling over my face-- and open up the windows. Morning light cascades across the green lawn. Fresh dew glistens like a thousand crystals on the trees and grass. The lake is calm, with only a few small ripples breaking the smooth surface, most likely a fish or tadpole.
Everything is silent and peaceful. Nothing feels out of place. This is life itself, or what it's supposed to be. Perfectly balanced and serene, nothing to disturb it, mother nature simply letting it grow.
But there are many things that disturb it. Many things that disrupt the peace which has been so carefully constructed over these centuries. I turn away from the window and go over to the wardrobe, where I pull out a new pair of dark joggers and a sleeveless turtleneck. I go to the bathroom and change. I carefully brush out my tangled birds nest of hair. My chestnut locks have grown out over these past few weeks, and they now flow down past my shoulders. I try to tie the curls into a neat braid. Half the hair falls out when I let it go, and the two braids stick out of my head like little girl's pigtails.
I sigh and pull them out, letting my mess of curls fall back onto my shoulders. Once I've finished getting ready, I walk over to the bedroom door and open it a bit, peering out into the empty hallway. My room is on the third floor, a little ways away from the wide staircase leading down to the main foyer. To my right is Raven's bedroom, and when I look around the corner a bit more, I can see that her room is still dark. The crack beneath her door is as dark as night.
I try to be as quiet as possible as I step out into the corridor, leaving my door open behind me. On the tile, my shadow dances, and golden light from my open windows cast a glowing aura around my form. I smile. It reminds me of the figures I see when I use my abilities. Only there is never light to cast out the dark, only darkness, complete and utter darkness.
