OW: The Girl With Raven and Snow

A numb feeling of stones hitting her unusually pale skin echoed through her very being. Bruises coated her small form, varying in colour and size. She lay on the ground, curled in a ball. It didn’t hurt physically, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt deep down, somewhere inside of her. Loud, muffled yells made their way to her covered ears. Brown rags barely covered her minuscule form from the oncoming blows, they acted as her clothes.
No one was trying to stop the crowd of children, varying in age, size and appearance. Though, there was one thing they all had in common.
They were normal.

Ratty raven hair covered the small form’s face, but there were soft strands of white mixed in. These strands normally ran down in a line, separating the two parts of her raven hair. “I’m sorry.” The small form whispered, the voice clearly a young girl’s, from six to seven years of age.

“Shut up!” A swift kick to her back followed, making her uncurl in shock, her spine paralyzed for the briefest second.

“Oh, did that hurt?”

“No.” She whispered.

“What was that?” A larger stone was thrown this time, hitting her in the face.

“It did not hurt…” Little did the little girl know that that had been the wrong thing to say. Though at this stage in her life, she was soon to learn to keep her mouth closed when they asked her a question.

The scene changed, and the girl had grown older, she was now around ten years of age, though she had barely grown any taller. Her hair had grown longer, she had learnt to take care of herself better, and she had become more aware that the voices she constantly heard were not just her imagination.

And that there was a dark side to her, that very well could envelope her.

“You should fight back.”

“Fight back.”

“They hurt you”

“We can tell it hurts even though you don’t feel pain.”

“Let us help.”

“Kill them.”

The girl leaned against a wall in a dark, desolate alleyway, as to not be seen by the humans, the normal people, that inhabited this town. That looked up to the grand family that lived in their grand, luxurious mansion upon the hill. They basically owned the town and surrounding area.

The Renalds.

She had been trying to ignore the voices, think her own thoughts, when a voice she had not heard before entered her mind. Grey eyes widened in shock at the two words, which repeated again with a malicious giggle.

“K I l l  t h e m.”

“What is… kill?”

It only repeated again, this time with more force.

“K I L L  T H E M.” It continued repeating, rising in forcefulness and volume, drowning out the voices that she had heard before. It changed from the childish voice, to something horrifying, something she felt she should be scared of.

But oddly, she wasn’t.

Because she didn’t know what it was capable of, what it could do and accomplish.
The image of the same girl running away from the background appeared straight after the previous one, no fading in to it this time, throwing the watcher in head first. It was set five years later, two years after the girl, now much taller than she was, but still quite small, left her town, where she had lived.  The image of a burning village, floating objects and people spontaneously being killed by orbs of blue light, and bodies littering the streets appeared in the background as the girl ran, her, now much longer, raven and snow white hair fluttering the wind behind her, thick trees masking her path as she went off the beaten track.

A book was tucked in the black sash of the, relatively, new grey and white dress she wore, though she wore no shoes. Fear showed in her face.

She knew exactly what that voice was capable of.

Slowly, ever so slowly, dark shadows enveloped the still moving scene, screams still echoing, even after the sight of the viewer was enveloped in darkness…

Iridescent silver light exploded through the shadows, giving life to the harmless dark. It was then the watcher realized they were eyes. Beautiful, shining silver eyes, shining like a star in the distance, or the moon when it was full. It captivated the watcher.

“Do not get eaten by a tiger any time soon.” The voice finally spoke. “I would be greatly distressed if I lost you, love…”

The watcher felt like she should know the voice. The smooth, whispery voice that called out to her. The voice was clearly male, and he had called her love.

Why had he called her love?

What made her so special that she meant so much to this voice? This soft, whispery voice that sounded ancient, yet young at the same time. Why would he be distressed, she did not mean much to anyone? This time, the watcher was looking through the eyes of the girl; she was seeing it as if it was actually her.

Though, of course, it was indeed her.

The eyes continued boring into the grey ones, that she knew she held, and soon, out of nowhere, a tiger made of shadows charged towards her face, claws outstretched, vicious teeth bared in malice. A promise of pain, pain that she had never felt before. Something that would encompass her very being like a cocoon around a caterpillar.

“K  I  L  L  H  I  M!”

A loud scream sounded from Emily’s throat as she shot up from her laying form, her slumber completely gone, her grey eyes wide. She did not know where the scream had come from, until she realized.
She was the one that had screamed.

It was a short amount of sleep she had had, but it was enough, apparently, for a nightmare.

She had never had a nightmare before, nor had she dreamed. It was odd. She was shaking like a leaf, cold sweat covered her forehead, and she suddenly wanted to throw the blankets from her and check if someone was in her room.

Instead, a slender hand grasped a soft pillow, bringing it to hug to her chest, as she curled into a ball, the blankets kicked away from her, no longer giving a promise in safety.

It was at that moment she wished she had never come to Otherworlde.