Sun's Rising (On Hold)

Chapter One: That's not a Dress

Author’s Note:

Firstly, there will not be many of these. I’m not a big fan of breaking up a storyline to throw my two cents in. I’d much rather let you guys ask questions than me planting in your head. Nor will I ask for votes/comments for chapters, I write because I like to. Although encouragement is… well, encouraged! Secondly, this is a NON-TEEN Fiction. Which means, big people eyes ONLY. There will be curse words, body parts, gore, and ect. If I see any comments about how vulgar my story is, I will be very upset and quite possibly delete them or re-paste this message to make the commenter look like an ass. Please, please, please do not make me do that. Before I feel bad for being bitchy, all non-teen readers, onward!

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Things really were not looking good.

I mean REALLY not good.

 Or would it be well? Things were not looking well…

Hmm.

I pondered this for a second, using it as a distraction from my surroundings. I ignored the mildew smell, the horrid screams, and the biting chains on my ankles and wrists, all for the sake of grammar. The English language, it never ceased to confound me. Despite my mother’s careful upbringing and emphasis on studies, I always found it difficult to be grammatically correct in a pinch. Whether it was a heated argument or a sticky situation, my mind seemed to wander from the proper use of words. I remembered this one time, my mom was teaching me the difference between ‘then’ and ‘than’.

My brother and I had gotten into an argument about who had to do what chores, as brothers and sisters usually do. I told him that I was older then him so I should have gotten the easy ones. That was when my mother decided to correct me.

“’Then’ is used for time. We cooked dinner and then we ate. ‘Than’ is used for a comparison. You are older than your brother. By the way, you can put away dishes after your brother has dried them,” She said in her gentle, yet commanding tone. I was around eight years old at the time; however, I was not immune to her wisdom. I looked at her as if she was the smartest person in the world.

“So…” I paused in my movements, glancing down to my toes, “I was born and then he was born?”

With a huge grin she faced me, she told me how smart I was and hugged me.

“I’m defiantly smarter than my brother!” I said, puffing out my cheeks and placing my hands on my hips. My mother simply sighed, muttering about another lesson being soon.

I held in a smile at the memory, however short lived. A desperate creak of a gate broke through my haze. With a groan, I let my head rest against the damp wall behind me. All my senses started returning. The smell of dried blood, the dank crypt of a cell they had me in, the sound of whips cracking, and the feeling of these damn chains all came back at once. It made me rather cranky.

“Maeve,” It was a haughty voice that called out to me. I chose not to answer, contemplating the ceiling instead.

“Maeve!” He sounded a bit angrier. A smirk crossed my face; I always loved to rile them up. I could hear his footsteps approaching rapidly, the rustle of his clothing alerting me to his nearness. His hot, alcohol drenched breath fanned my face and I scrunched my nose up in disgust.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, “You will listen to me, you will obey me, and you will come upstairs and behave,” His tone was harsh.

“Why should I?” I narrowed my eyes, not caring if I sounded like a rebellious teenager, “Not like you can take away anything from me. You already have everything I cared about,” The hatred was very hard to keep contained, I could feel it oozing out of my pores.