A Few Small Bruises (Watty Awards 2011!!!)

Please note that this story switches POV's aka point of veiws!! That's all and i hope you like it!!

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Her Point Of View (POV)

        I watched the sunrise. Pinks, gold’s, oranges, and blues swirled beautifully together. The cool breeze ruffled my hair and torn clothes and the small sliver of sunlight warmed me slightly, but I wanted the cold to stay. It numbs out the pain.

        Pain, I winced. It's all I've known. Bruises scattered my legs, dotted my arms and chest, and even my face. Cuts and scars clung to me where my bruises did not. I've been hurt and tortured and near death more times than I can count. If it wasn't for my baby sister I'd have given in and died already, but she's so little and fragile she needs me.

        My little sister stirred at my side. I smiled as she sat up, pushing her short stringy blonde hair out of her face. She smiled back at me before curling her tiny warm body into my side. I stroked the cut on her cheek. She was bruised more than me. She knows how to be tough. She never cries out no matter how bad it hurts.

        Looking up I noticed my master coming, across the mostly dead lawn, toward us. He's tall and potbellied, with dark hair and red eyes. He carried our outfits for today over his arm and I could hear the keys to our chains jangling on his belt. I disdainfully regarded the clothes over his arm. I knew what today was. It's the day of the auction. When he reached us he went to kick my baby sister. I quickly angled us so that I took the blow. He hit my lower stomach and it hurt, but i refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. He just glared.

        "Here." he growled flinging the clothes at me. "Get dressed." With vampire speed he was gone.

        I stood up and pulled my sister up after me. I decided to change her first. I pulled her night gown over her head and dropped it gently to the ground. Then grabbed her new dress. It was silky, ruffly, and pink. I slipped it over her head. It fit her perfectly, going down to her knees.

        Then it was my turn. I shrugged out of my tattered nightgown and slipped the dress on. It was red, itchy, ruffled, pleated, and skimpy, hardly reaching mid-thigh. I've been to 47 auctions in my life. They pay more when you look like a slut. Even so, this would be the first time my sister wouldn't be auctioned off with me.

        "I love you sissy." She said looking up at me with an eerily calm expression. "We're going to different places now aren't we?"

        I just nodded. "Promise me you'll be strong and I promise to come get you as soon as I can."

        "Our brother told you the same thing and he's still not back." She pointed out. We have an older brother. He's three years older than me, and swore to come and get me as soon as he could. We haven’t seen him since.

        "Just stay strong and I'll do my best." I said.

        Being a slave is a brutal life. Really brutal. Most people don't live past 21. I wasn't scared of dying. It's inevitable. No one can prolong it...unless they become a vampire. But who would change you? All vampires hate humans. We're its, scum, worthless. I will definitely welcome death. The only reason I hold on is for my sister.

        Her and I stayed quiet through being unchained, shuffled to the auction, registration, and getting in line which took until noon. Before I knew it I was stumbling onto the stage. I kept my head down, hardly wanting to look at the blood thirsty parasites ready to kill a skimpy looking slave.

        "The number for this slave is 16-6654. The biding starts at 12,000." The vampire auctioneer said.

        "$13,000!" A voice bellowed.

        "$13,500!"

        "$15,000!" The original voice hollered.