The Huntress

Black for the Devil... or is it an angel?

Alison awoke groggily the next morning. Her eyes red and puffy and still in her gown. She had fallen asleep to the sound of the clinking of glasses and her own despair and had woken to sunlight streaming into her window where she had left the curtains open. Alison sighed, it was Sunday and the rest of the family would mostly sleep for the whole day. She would have the house to herself, and she would do some homework. The excitements of Secondary School.

It felt like an age before she could convince herself to face the world and crawl out of bed. Her movements were laboured and heavy, she was reluctant to do anything. Flynn's words from the previous night were whirling through her brain and she was struggling to decipher what he had truly meant. It wasn't as straightforward as it had seemed, there was a hidden meaning to his words and she just needed to work out what. But thinking about her mum's death and why she was still living with the Lyson's made her feel depressed. She couldn't think of a good enough reason as to why they would want her. She was a burden, wasn't she? Yes, she was. She was different to them, she wasn't family and she required completely different amenities then they did. But they always said that she was family, her mother was family so she was too. Wasn't that what Charles and Emma said?

Alison rubbed her eyes as she made her way into the bathroom and started when she glanced in the mirror. She looked like death warmed up. Which was rather ironic when she thought about it. Her eyes were swollen and red beneath the thick black smudges her makeup had left ringed around the lids. Her skin was pale and patchy; red in places where she had lent, splotches of orange where her foundation hadn't been rubbed off compared to her natural pallor. Her hair was all over the place and her dress was ruffled from where she had slept in it. She wished that she could just wake up looking radiantly beautiful like Amy and Emma could.

That was it. She was spending the day in bed, watching films and TV on her laptop and pretending to be doing work. Last night had drained any energy that she might have had and seeing as none of the others would be leaving their rooms at all during the day she was pretty much safe to do whatever she liked. Splashing her face with water and then rubbing rigorously to remove the stains of makeup, before dragging a brush through her birds nest of hair (even when straightened it was practically impossible to manage), Alison retreated back to her room where she changed and settled back into bed. She lost count of the amount of times tears streamed down her face when she thought back to what Flynn and Felicity had said about her.

Somehow staying in bed and doing nothing but cry and watch films had done her some good. When her alarm startled Alison awake the next morning she felt ready to face the day, to face school. She had reached a conclusion at some point, she wasn't entirely sure when, that the real reason why they kept her around didn't matter. What mattered was the way they treated her whilst she was here and she had nothing but gratitude for that.

"Morning Alison, how are you feeling? Ready for school?" Phillip greeted her as she entered the kitchen. He was smiling rather smugly at the fact that the others all had school whilst he had left and apparently gone to University a couple of years before.

"Oh I'm good thank you. How's your arm? Ready for the needle?" She retorted, looking just as smug as the moment of worry flashed across his face. Phillip really did hate the injections. She giggled at the look on his face as she went to make herself breakfast.

Thwack

Something squidgy hit the centre of Alison's back with force. She arched in reflex and cried out in shock, a hand raised to touch the tender spot between her shoulder blades. The area was damp and sticky. She spun round on her heel and glared at Phillip in fury. "You! ... YOU!" She stammered out in anger. Phillip chuckled as she glared at him. He had thrown an orange at her back; it had burst and gone all over her jumper. Alison tore it off in fury. "If you've bruised my back I am going to murder you Phillip Lyson!" She growled, screwing the jumper into a ball and throwing it at his head. He ducked easily and continued to laugh.