My Beloved

Chapter 3

"Amethyst.." Isabelle calls from behind my door.

"Come in" I say. She slowly opens the door and smiles at me. I can't help but smile back now that she's lost her two front teeth.

"Mama says she'll be back with daddy, you should make breakfast" She jumps on my bed with a 'weeee'

"Okay but what do you want to eat today?" I ask, rubbing my eyes to rid them of sleep. It was difficult for me to sleep yesterday, honestly after I witnessed who wouldn't. Civilization has taken a toll on the humans leaving us without much technology or protection. After the sin committed my our forefathers we've all been in debt to the demons.

I was eight years old and Isabelle was three when we had to leave the city. We found a small town where would hide from the dangers. Selling everything we've own to the Mayor we had few foodstuffs, a cabin, some clothes and our lives. Everything was fine until the demon showed up. He claimed he was the owner of our very cabin and the whole town. At first we all thought he was an ordinary trouble maker but when he scourged a man who had threatened to beat him up. Only one look and he burned, burned from the inside out. Almost every visit here ends up with a lost life.

They feared. I despised.
They hid. I stood.
They surrendered. I fought.

Its been ten years of the madness. My father had to find a job as a blacksmith because they paid really well. My mother made jewelry for the whole town and sold them at reasonable prices. I and Isabelle helped my mother with her bead making.

We barely associated with people unless it was absolutely necessary. I broke that rule once I met Dave.

"Hey stop snooping through the beads" I say angrily

"I'm not. Just looking for the one I like" he looks down at the name tag clipped on my dress. "Amethyst? Pretty name"

"Thank you. Sorry for yelling" I blush, embarrassed.

"It's ok. I don't see you around here often, you fled the city?" He tilts his head, letting his brown curls fall to the side shielding his left eye.

"Yes.. But I've been here for eight years now. I hardly want to make friends" I say honestly.

"I can be your friend" he smiles.

"What?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll be your friend. You're beautiful, a conversationalist and good with your hands" he says the last part wiggling his fingers.