Hidden Appearances

Chapter One: The Beginning

          “Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.” (Friedrich Nietzsche)

            Sunday Night: May 1st, 2011

            The room was small and speckled with the scent of mildew and mold, but the young teen knew it was the best hiding place in the 19th century farm house she has been living in since she was five.

            “I am going to kill you!”

            The teen shot upward and rushed toward the door, stumbling on the uneven floorboards in the dark. Her hands stopped midway to the door handle as the door opened. In a split second, the teen had been roughly grabbed and disappeared through the opening. Sudden thuds with the sound of something breaking only brought the unforgettable memory into the teens mind.

            ‘You’re never safe. No matter where you run and hide, they will find you.’

            The teen knew her hiding spot of two weeks was now compromised. The small enclosed attic was now but a distant memory as Sunday’s beating session started once again. Her temporary peace was gone.

            Monday Morning: May 2nd, 2011

            The early morning song played as the morning jays sung their matching tone once again, welcoming yet another day. The teen pitied them. To the morning jays, as the teen called them, were mindless creatures without a care in the world. The morning jays knew nothing of what the real world was like. Evil lingered everywhere and friends and family were not to be trusted. Trust was the equivalent of death.

            Her routine was starting. Once the dimly lighted clock struck quarter to eight her cage was finally opened. Waiting for permission to move the teen lay on her battered cushion and draped the last remaining object she had left from her parents over her shoulders, the blanket.

            With a push, the wooden door swung open, visibly showing the one who hated her all. With her pristine smile and glamour way of life, sparkles shinned off her seemingly perfect figure as the sunlight illuminated the room. Yet, the teen knew better than to that. She knew that the woman was Neda, the woman who wanted nothing more than to kill her.

            With shyness and concern in her eyes, the teen greeted Neda with soft spoken words. “Good morning, Aunt Neda.”

            “Don’t—“Neda lashed out, slapping the teen hard against her already swollen cheek. “—ever call me aunt!” The teen tried to conceal a startled cry, but her body was weakened and her mind was shattered.

            By the time the teen noticed her mistake, the other half of the evil duo had arrived and caught the collar of her shirt and lifted her above his head.