Sword & Fire

Prologue

I was always a troubled child.

Ever since I was born I was the deviled child. I would scream into the night, rip my mothers curtains apart, literally claw at my fathers skin when he tried to hold me.

I was a demon child.

That didn't change much once my mom died. Dad and I would get into even more fights because mom wasn't there to stop us. It would get so bad sometimes that dad would smack the shit out of me.

Not like that stopped me.

I don't blame her for what she did. Really I don't; I just wish she didn't leave me. I know it's selfish and all, but she left me to this hell.

And questions.

She definitely left me with a lot of questions.

Her life was hard as it was. We lived in the middle of no where. She had to clean the house with little to no help as well as attend school as the kindergartener teacher. And my father?

Complete fucking asshole.

I don't blame her for taking her own life.

I just wish she took me with her.

I don't understand how it happened either. That day was so normal, at first. Dad went to work and so did she. I was in my room most of the day, working on homework that my mother gave me; I was homeschooled.

It was mid-day when the pain started. An agonizing pain that would not leave my back. I tore apart my shirt just to get a look at what was happening. My two faint scars that I have always had started to bleed and turn red. Before, it was a pale white, now it became a dark red.

Like paint on a blank canvas.

Blood was pouring out of the scars, as if it were being inflicted for the first time. I was screaming; I remember screaming. It seemed as if the scars were growing bigger as the pain increased.

My mother heard my screams from down the road. One minute, she was just there. Whispering sweet nothingness to calm me; I eventually passed out.

When I woke, there were bandages wrapped around my chest, including my back. Looking in the mirror, you could see the blood trying to make its way to the surface. But the yelling stopped me from taking the bandages off.

My parents rarely fought. When they did, it was mostly about me. I wasn't wrong about this time either. I walked down the stairs and stopped there for a better listening in.

I've never seen my mother so angry before.

"I don't care what you say Kronos! I'm telling her, she has a right to know!"

"I swear, if you tell her, I will make you regret it."

"Don't threaten me! We have to tell her. Don't you see that? Her scars were growing today. What if something else happens and she hurts someone?"

"Nothing will happen Davina."

"I won't let my daughter suffer, again." She didn't let him respond because she walked away to come face to face with me.

"Come Evie. I need to change your bandages." She dragged me upstairs, but not before catching my fathers eyes.

Dark red evil eyes.

Mother had told me she loved me. She told me that everything was going to be okay and everything would be explained.

The next morning, I found her with her wrists split in the bathroom tub. My father didn't even cry for his wife.