"I'm hungry!" I yell. "I'm hungry! Hello! I'm hungry! Bring me food! I'm hungry! Bring me food now! I'm—!"
"Shut up, kid!" an agent yells, and I grin. I've been screaming for the past hour, and I've woken just about everyone in the building with my complaints. I've decided that if they're going to keep me here against my will, I'll make their life a living hell. It must be early in the morning, because Agent Ralph stomps into the hallway in his pajamas and slippers.
I burst out laughing. Pointing at his pajamas, I manage to taunt him between hysterical laughter. "You're," I say, laughing, "wearing...bright pink...Hello Kitty...pajamas...and...slippers...with....ribbons!"
Agent Ralph glares at me and snaps, "They got my laundry mixed up with another agent! A female agent, just so you know!"
"Yeah, sure they did," I tease. "Now, I'm hungry. Bring me food."
"We aren't your servants," Agent Ralph growls. "We don't have to give you anything to eat; you're lucky that we care enough to keep you alive."
I glare at him. "Actually," I snap, "you don't care at all. You only keep us alive because of the law. If it was your choice you'd just kill us all off," I smirk as I add, "like you did your daughter."
A flash of pain passes over Agent Ralph's face, but it's quickly replaced with anger. "Shut up!" he yells. "You're just a kid! You have no idea what it feels like to lose a child!"
"I know what it's like to lose a parent," I reply. "I know what it's like to watch your father deteriorate into madness. I know what it's like to watch your family fall apart." I glare at the agent as I add, "I bet you don't know how it feels to travel from foster home to foster home. I bet you don't know how it feels to raise yourself."
"But you didn't raise yourself," Agent Ralph argues. "Someone helped you, and we want to know where that someone is. So why won't you tell us where he is, Ms. Green?"
I glare at the agent and say, "I won't betray Daemon. He practically raised Angel and me, and I'm not going to just betray him by giving away his whereabouts to you people."
Agent Ralph raises his eyebrows. "You say that like we're bad people," he says, as if surprised. "If you knew the real reason as to why you're here, then you wouldn't think that badly of us."
What did he mean by what he said? I can't help but wonder as I watch Agent Ralph turn away and walk off down the hallway. I ignore my thoughts and call out, "Hey! I'm still hungry! Hey!"
I sigh and plop down onto the floor. It's still early morning, but I'm not tired in the least. I sit with my legs out in front of me and my arms crossed, and I stare at the wall. Agent Ralph's mentioning of my family life stung a little, and I close my eyes, letting the memory surface.
I don't remember how old I was. I wasn't any older than three when my mother died of some disease, and I wasn't much older than four when my father just left one day and never came back.
I was in a foster home since kindergarten, and I was sent off many times to boarding schools because nobody wanted me. I was different, according to them, and I knew it. Wherever I was, weird stuff would happen; for example: stuff randomly catching fire, lightning zapping the tree in the front yard—every time a thunderstorm occurred. I would cry often at night, wishing that I could live a normal life, and wondering what I was.
That all changed when I was a couple years older.
I was sitting in the front yard of my current foster home, underneath the shade of an oak tree, when I saw a shadow appear in front of me. I had looked up and had seen a tall boy with shaggy black hair and dark grey eyes that had no pupils. But, for some reason, I wasn't scared of him at all.
"Who are you?" I'd asked him.
The boy had smiled and replied, "I'm Daemon."
He'd just stood there watching me for a little while before he began to walk off. For some reason, I didn't want him to go, and I called out, "Wait! Where are you going? Why are you leaving?"
The boy had turned to look at me and said, "You may come if you wish."
I had stood up, ready to run after him, before my foster parent had called out, "Robin! Time to come in! Someone's here to visit you!"
I'd looked at the house for less than thirty seconds, but when I'd turned away from it, the boy was gone. My heart had sunk and I'd walked inside of the house feeling lonely once more.
As I'd walked inside, I'd found two government men waiting for me. They thanked my foster parent for her cooperation and handed her a check. I'd looked up at one of the two men, whose name tag had read: AGENT RALPH, and below that: Head Agent.
They'd taken me to their van and had said, "Robin, we're going to take you to your new, permanent home now, okay?"
I had nodded as I climbed into the van. Before they had closed the van's door, however, I'd felt someone grab my arm and pull me out of the van. I'd turned around and seen that it was the boy from before—Daemon.
"You're not going to take her there!" Daemon had yelled. "I won't let you hurt her! She's one of us!"
The agents had pulled out their guns by now and were pointing them at Daemon. "Release the girl," one of the agents—Agent Ralph—had commanded. Daemon had just stood there, his grip on my arm tightening so much that I'd cried out.
"No," Daemon had said firmly, and it was right about then that one of the agents cried out and slammed face-first into the ground.
Agent Ralph had immediately turned around to face the attacker, but that had only earned him a kick in the face. He'd collapsed to the ground, unconscious, and I'd watched as a small boy approached Daemon and me.
"That's her?" he'd asked. He'd had wide blue eyes, and like Daemon's, they'd had no pupils. But his eyes were kinder than Daemon's had looked; they'd been such a light blue I had thought they were made of a piece of the sky.
"Yes," Daemon had replied, "this is her. We were just in time too, Angel."
"I noticed," Angel had said, and then he'd smiled at me. "You okay?" he'd asked, and I'd nodded. "Good. Do you mind if we take you somewhere?"
I had shaken my head and answered, "No, I don't mind. Where are we going?"
"To the woods," Daemon had told me, and he'd picked me up and carried me as he and Angel had made a dash for the forest that was nearby. As they had run, Daemon had explained to me about the Elementalists, and how I—like his sister—could control all of the elements.
"Where's your sister, then?" I had asked. "She can't be alive if what you said is true—only one of each Elementalist can be alive at one time period."
Daemon had remained silent before whispering, "She is dead."
"Oh," I'd replied quietly. "I...I'm sorry..."
Daemon had set me down on the forest floor, and Angel had taken hold of my arm. He'd looked at me and smiled, his shaggy white hair blowing every which way because of the wind, and he'd explained about Dark and Light Elementalists. It had all been a lot to take in, but I found it interesting, and I had believed every word of what they told me.
Then Daemon had explained that, before his sister had died, he'd gone out searching for all of the Elementalists. He managed to gather them all in one place, and as he led them to his home, he'd arrived to horrible news.
He had stopped talking after he said that, and he'd pointed up at a tree house, telling me, "That's where we'll be staying, alright?" I'd nodded, and Angel had climbed up the tree and dropped down a rope ladder.
I'd looked up at the tree house, and I'd smiled.
I'd realized that I'd finally found a home...and a family.
I'd finally found a family.
That's what Angel and I were—and still are—to Daemon. We're his family.
So, I think, that means that the other Elementalists are my family. I have to take care of them, and I haven't done a very good job, but at least they're all alive.
I smile. "Yeah," I whisper to myself, "we're like a family."
I laugh as I lie down and close my eyes, thinking, And, if you mess with our family, we'll make you pay.
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