I could feel myself slowly coming to my senses, though I still found it hard to open my eyes. And so, I sat there for what felt like hours, battling against my own body for the willpower to lift the weight off of my eyelids. My efforts proved useful, and I was able to see again.
Using the back of my hand, I shielded my eyes from the blinding light that was leaking in from the small window beside me. After that, I would slowly bring myself up into a sitting position. Despite how small the box-shaped window was, great amounts of daylight never failed to surge into the chamber, blanketing over nearly half of the room. I say 'the room', because that's all it was. I, being the only furnishing; for there was no bed, no wardrobe filled to each end with clothing, no nightstand holding a lamp...nothing. Nothing but a waste bucket- that they took the liberty of cleaning- and chains, which were bound to my wrists. I was lucky enough to occasionally receive straw as a makeshift pillow- if they were feeling generous.
I had long ago resorted to referring to them as 'they'. What they really were was my family..but it had never felt that way. Coming from a long line of shape shifters, I was expected great things of, being the firstborn son. However, I was born with a genetic defect..well, more like a branding of sorts. Long ago, a troubled person of my kind reached out to the demons- something one should never do- and was granted the ability to wield fire. They used their newfound ability to wreak havoc upon the other shape shifters, killing off a good portion of them. Since that age, the gene has been passed down, skipping generations. The holder of the flames can be recognized by a flame-like marking somewhere on their skin. Unfortunately, mine stretched across they lower portion of my face, from my jawline up to the bridge of my nose.
Because of this, my family hated me. When I was born, my dad was horrified and ordered for me to be slain before anyone else in our village could discover me. However, my mother pleaded to keep me alive..though just barely. That is how I got into this room..and why I've been here for the last fifteen years of my life.
My elder sister, Elle, has been giving me a basic education, as well as taking care of me, given that my father wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. He had somehow persuaded my mom into the same mindset, so I've never met either of them. Even then, Elle never sympathized with me. To her, I was nothing but a monster. But not to him..