Mothflight
Sincerely, Temptation
(c) 2013, Mothflight
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanic, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express permission from the author or publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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So here I am. Stuck in this abyss of terror.
The abyss that I fell into.
I'll spare you the sob story and tell you the only thing you need to know.
I'm a monster.
And I'm all alo-
"Shit." I curse as my iPod slips from my grasp and hits the gravel road with a light thump. I sigh exasperatedly and bend forward to pick it up.
After checking to make sure it wasn't broken, I lock it and stuff it in the back pocket of my skinny jeans.
I continue walking at a leisurely pace down the little town's deserted street, the crisp night air sending chills along my spine. The crazy weather makes it such an alluring tourist destination -not.
The passing trian screeches as the metal scrapes metal. Trains pass every hour or so. Never returning. Their destination, wherever it is, only seems like an impossible milestone from my point of view. They're constantly rumbling by. Splitting the quiet air with the deafening blast to announce a short presence. Despite all the years I've lived here, the origin of the noisy behemoths remains a mystery to me.
At least they're not stuck in this hell. They have a purpose, a destination. Which is more than I can say for myself. But at the fragile age of fifteen, I don't exactly have a lot of room in this world to complain. Not without facing critical judgment from our loving society. Who wants to be seen as narrow-minded and shallow?
I know what most people would think. I'm just a little girl. I can't know anything about sorrow. That's how it's supposed to be.
Well my highly broad comment says that if you're a human, you know nothing but hate.
Sorrow is all I know.
I have nobody. My sisters are dead, my father is dead. Only my mother and half-brother remain.
My brother isn't here. He's the only one that seems to get me. Well, The part of me that he knows. He lives far away from my small town, with it's population of around 6,000, it drives away everbody. There's nothing here. Nothing but a old timey town frozen in conservative bigotry and slowly rotting away.
I, on the other hand, am not about big city life. I actually prefer small towns, which are much more manageable. It's in Washington and, for the record, there are no sparkling, gorgeous vampires or packs of shirtless buff dudes.
Then there's my mother. Whom doesn't work, or cook, or do anything but sit around at home when's she's not on one of her many dates. I'm home alone alot. Especially at night. Usually I'll just leave. She'll do whatever she does on her laptop or cell for 6 hours until her dates arrive. Unless she's telling me how lazy and irresponsible I am, she doesn't talk to me, the reasons are pretty much a given. Not that she'd know most of them anyway. I haven't killed her sorely because, truthfully, there's probably no way I would get away with it. Plus, I'm not going to some godforsaken stereotypical orphanage where no one would want me.
Why would she talk to me? Why would anybody? I'm different. And we all know how much the world fucking hates different.
They hate the way I talk.
They hate the way I dress.
They hate how quiet I am.
They hate that I'm not the perfect, gorgeous teenager I'm supposed to be.
It burns them, knaws at them. They can't stand it, they need to get away from it. So much disappointment, so much failure. The world collapses on itself. So they take it out on me.
They let me know just how much they despise my flaws. They rip at me, as if I was their own imperfections. As if they believe punishing me will make them who they wish they were. But it doesn't.
So they take it out the innocent. They take it out on the weakest subject they can influence. The cowards take it out on me.
Hold up, I'm not innocent. What am I talking about? That's right, they don't know that.
But who are they? What does that make them? Does it set them free? Or confine them further? I guess I wouldn't know. But there's always ways to find out. Oh, sure that'd make me no better than them. But I'm damned regardless no?
It's all shit.
I sigh deeply and pick my pace up to a brisk walk. Guess it's time to introduce my little party trick. The gift that pretty much volunteered itself to me.
Slowly inhaling, I dig down into myself for that familiar spring that's always armed, right at the base of my spine, like an awe inspiring weapon. Eyes sealed, fists clenched.
Once I reach it, I call upon it. It responds to me, in a way that makes it seem more like a loyal friend than what it truly must be.
I coax it and nurture it like a mother lioness to her ever growing cubs, feeling it grow and strengthen. As if being fed lifesaving nutrients.
It starts to envelop my body like a wave that leaves goosebumps in it's wake, prickling it's way over my body and tickling through my heart.
It needs less and less encouragement as it takes me over. The ferocity and merciless nature of the wicked beast, the bloodlust that welcomes itself as my royal instincts.
Soon it has me completely in it's grip, leaving me powerless. As if to let me know that I belong to it now, that it controls me. It tightens around me, a final push.
The snarling beast rips through any last obstacle in the form of the laws of physics and nature alike in a malicious protest to all things man thought he knew.
Feeling my legs buckle, I suck in an almost astonished breath at the strength of the part of me that I struggle to control.
Snarls and growls echo through the frigid air, sounds that unquestionably belong to me. Almost as if crossing into a new dimension, the world changes.
Everything gets louder, amplified as if to make sure no foolish creature attempts to evade my detection. Closer, just bounds away. Brighter, leaving nothing to shelter under the mask of shadows.
I hear the faintest rustle of wild grass. I smell the warm scent of a kitten as it scurries across the hot gravel. I feel the wind dancing through my fur; a spirit exploring the strange creature in a world unwelcome to it.
Soon it's the wind that's fighting to catch up as I push myself forward as fast as gravity will allow.
Farther and faster. Who says you have to obey the rules? I'm living proof that any damn rule can be broken. The feeling of freedom compares to no other. It belongs to me.
My name is Avery Mercy. There's no barrier that could hold me back, not even the laws of nature.
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A/N
So, tell me what you think! Love it? Hate it? Should I keep writing it? Comments are deeply appreciated! This is my very first story on Wattpad, and I'm having a lot of fun with it so far! ^.^ I actually write my stories on my iPod and keep them to myself. When I found this site, and with a little encouragement from my sis, I decided to share it with the [hopefully] adoring public. To be honest, it took me a lot of courage to publish it. >.< So once again, Please tell me if you like it and/or if you have any suggestions or whatever. lol. Thanks so much for reading my crap! ;o And thanks for giving me a chance. Much love. <3
-Mothflight