Elizabeth

1: Angels and Demons

All angels are bruised. Angels are the start of demons.

...

Are we always swept up in our own worlds to know what's happening around us?

Is it fate that brings our bad news? Or is it the gods who decide who gets to play and who gets played? If that's the case, then I've been put in Lucifer's hands.

...

I have a little friend. He's a black lab puppy. I found him resting in our garden.

Dad doesn't know I have him.

If he ever found out, we'd both die.

Sometimes I wish that I died. A young girl shouldn't be treated this way...tortured and abused her entire life. I've done nothing to deserve this. I'm a human punching bag.

Day and night, he does nothing to relieve me of the pain that he's caused me. 

"Hey, sweetheart," master says as he walks in my room...the little attic with a slow leak catching in the bucket.

The little puppy yaps and wags his tail. He doesn't know the harms of this world.

I stand and put my hands behind my back and hold my head down. "None of that, Collins," he whispers. Why is he being so gentle to me?

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

"None of that either, sweetheart. There are a few men I want you to meet," he says and extends his hand to me. I fear he'll hit me, so I absentmindedly flinch. He slightly chuckles. I can hear some nervousness in his voice. "I'm not going to hit you, baby," he reassures.

He leads me downstairs and holds my hand as we go downstairs.

Two men stand in the living room. They both wear black pants and tight shirts. I can see weapons attached to their bodies. Who are these men? "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Collins was sleepings."

"Collins," one says. "We assumed she was...he."

"Ah yes, the name. It's a family name," he explains. One of them whispers to the other in a different language.

"This wasn't the deal. My boss doesn't take women. We take the eldest son to train."

"I don't have an eldest son. The contract was signed. My debt is cleared when she is taken."

Taken? I want to ask, but I've lost my voice to men.

They speak in a different language again. I don't understand them. "Ok. Pack your things."

"She doesn't have anything," interrupts master.

"Do you have anything you'll need?" One asks. I can barely understand him.

"Mi perrito," I whisper. I hope they can hear me.

"Perrito," one mumbles. "Hablas espanol?" He finally asks. I nod my head. I never got a proper English education. Now, the man to the left speaks to me in Spanish. "Go get your dog then," he says in Spanish.