What We Hide

Chapter 1

"Where did she hide it?" The cruel voice demanded an answer from Natalia. "Where is your mother, you stupid brat?"

"No! Please, I don't have what you want." She pleaded to the stranger that was holding a knife to her throat.  "I don't even know what you're talking about. Please. Just let me go, there is nothing I can give you." She tried to push him back, but he was too strong. "I don't know who my mother is." This was all she could give them, she didn't know her mother, she didn't know who this man was and why he was after her.

Her pleas were useless, the man took the knife and thrust it into her abdomen, and ran off. It was dark and she could not see his face. Her abdomen burned with pain and her shirt become wet with blood, she reached for it and her hand was immediately covered in blood. She fell to the floor no longer able to hold herself up, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move. She closed her eyes, resigned to the fact that she was going to die in the dark and alone.

Natalia jolted up, in a panic, she reached her stomach trying to stop the blood. But there was no blood, she was in bed and all that was left was the scar, she felt the long line and steadied her breathing. It was a nightmare, the nightmare she had to relive and relive; it was becoming too vivid and it made her afraid to rest her eyes, her mind never rested. She hated recalling the day she had almost died. She despised the fact that the police never found the man that attacked her, they didn't even try. She hated that she did not know what they were looking for or why they had asked her about a mother she didn't even know.

She looked at the clock next to her bed, it was three in the morning, and she had gotten used to sleeping less and less every night. Her nightmare was controlling her life, there was nothing she could do to keep it away. So, she did the next best thing; she went for a run.

She got up and went to her restroom, she stared at her reflection. Her once bright green eyes had become dull and overshadowed by her dark circles. Her long auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail that revealed her pale skin and sharp cheekbones. She had sharp features and her sickly thin frame only highlighted them. They were not as sharp as they once were, her new foster family cared about her and was taking good care of her so she was getting healthier and stronger.

Natalia changed into her running clothes and put the only thing she had from her mother, a necklace. Although she didn't know her mother, she felt a connection every time she wore it, she felt the love she hoped her mother had towards her and it brought her comfort. The necklace was gold, it had the first three letters of her name N.A.T with a small arrow above it. Whenever Natalia got nervous or scared, she would play with it, it had become a nervous habit that was wearing the arrow. She felt her mother's presence or thought of some things a mother might say.

She opened her bedroom window slowly and carefully trying not to make too much noise to wake anyone in the house. She learned how to shut off the alarm on her window so it would no longer announce when it was opened. She made her way down from the second floor and quietly landed on the wet grass. Luckily, her foster parent's house didn't have neighbors too close, so she could walk around without drawing attention. She did have to avoid the cameras and the motion-sensing lights until she made It out of the gate. She lived in a smaller town a couple of miles from the city, and every morning she would run to the city and back before anyone in the house woke up.

Being in the foster system since she was twelve, she had learned how to escape any place without being caught. She had to learn to leave so she could find some assimilation of peace and some safety. Her mother passed away when she was just three, so she had no recollection of her. When she was twelve, she was taken away from her abusive father. When child protective service took her, she thought she was going to be safe, but she was wrong. Most of the foster families that took her were just as harsh as living with her father. She never stayed in a foster house for too long, she was sent to different foster houses every two months like clockwork. It was always said that she caused 'too much trouble' for the families and the other foster kids. She just wouldn't let herself be abused any longer, she stood up for herself and for the other foster kids that were getting beaten.  She protected the younger kids that couldn't do anything to fight back, so she took their punishments. She was used to it and she had wished someone would have protected her the way she did them.