Ripped from her life as an orphan and thrown into the confines of an insane asylum, Amelia breaks and becomes the monster everybody says she is, revelling in the fear she insights. At least, that is until she learns that she's not the only Big Bad w...
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Freak. -that's what the other children called me.
Daemon. -that's what the nuns called me.
Psycho. -that's what the guards called me.
A different name from each person, there were many more vile words spoken through flickering and poisoned tongues, but those were the ones I remembered the most.
Freak. Daemon. Psycho.
They called me a freak because I was different, because I didn't act the way they did, didn't think the way that they did.
They called me a daemon because they said they saw the devil within me, an evil spirit lurking inside of a child's body.
And they called me psycho, because I was.
'Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.'
Lie. -All lies.
Their harsh words hurt more than any beating I had received, they created more damage and pain than any whip or heavy-footed kick would inflict.
Because a body would heal, a mind would not.
-And the truth was... I was a girl made of glass, fragile and easily destroyed, and every word they said was a stone, shattering my heart until it was nothing more than fragments of broken glass beneath their feet.
***
The water recoiled in ripples against the flow of the wind. I shifted forward on the rock that I was perched upon, cautiously dipping the tip of my toe into the waters cool embrace.
What happened last night, did it even mean anything? -Or was it just a meaningless moment of passion.
I was not sure which I preferred. I'm not even sure if I wanted it to be like that, I mean yes, I wanted it in the moment, but I put that down to the mate's pull, an artificial love.
Because I wasn't capable of real love, or dealing real and pure emotion.
None except from Anger.
Anger was a familiar friend of mine, always showing up unannounced, pushing it away into my mind without bothering to wipe its feet first, staining me with its dirty tracks of lies and deceit. Anger was heavy handed and clumsy, reading havoc upon others without hesitating to think first.
