❝ The end of life begins when you
drain one from another ❞
Michaela Reid was raised in a household that would be considered anything but normal. From the time her fine motor skills developed, she was taught how to properly grip a dagger and a woode...
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The phone rings to it's end for the fifth time, Alex's cheery voicemail only causes me to groan and toss my phone onto my bed. With my now free hands, I finish pinning my messy hair back with a hair clip and stand in front of my full-length mirror.
I title my head slightly and lift my white tank top up, revealing the bruises decorating my abdomen. I sigh before tugging my oversized faux leather jacket over my bare shoulders. My matching black skit does nothing to hide the marks on my knees and legs from Yasmin's stupid carpet, but I can't bring myself to care enough to put pants on.
"Mic!" I hear Alis shout followed by her thumping footsteps up the staircase. I roll my eyes and pick my phone up from my bed before tucking the device into the pocket of my jacket.
"What?" I huff, turning and dropping to my bed. I grab one of my platform boots and tug each on their respective foot just as Alis bursts through the door to my bedroom.
"We need to go to the church tonight," She tells me, holding both sides on the doorframe as she speaks.
I stop tying my shoelaces momentarily, looking up at her through the loose hairs of my curtain bangs. "It's Saturday,"
"They need us in early this week," Alis vaguely explains why we're going to our meeting a day earlier than usual.
"Okay," I reply, not bothering to argue with her. I still have all day to track down those leeches and find out where Alex is.
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