Mated but not Tamed

Chapter 1 - Trapped

Magnolia 19 years old

I feel the ache in my skull before I even open my eyes to the day. The small window in my room barely big enough to fit through, lets what little light it can get in. The rays push down on my eyelids, causing my lashes to flutter and my eyes to open.

I squint against the ache and the light. Shifting in my bed so I sit against the wall. My long wavy brown hair cascading over my shoulders and into my lap. I brush through it a few times with my fingers, twirling it around every few strands or so.

My chest constricts at the breath I didn't know I was holding in, coming out in a quick puff. I feel my heart beating, my blood pumping. I hear to cars outside speeding down the road, the shift of gears when they brake. I hear everything, feel everything, see everything.

I watch as the dust from my room floats around, swirling in the air. Changing direction like it doesn't have a care in the world.

I've never been envious of dust. Just another thing to add to the list.

With that riveting thought, I peel back the raggedy blanket I'm given to sleep in. The fabric harsh and stale, causing hives on my otherwise smooth tan skin.

I plant my feet on the cold hard wood floor, pushing my self up. Almost falling over when a shooting pain flys up my leg. The beating I took a couple nights ago not healing as fast as a I would like, my knee shaking from the pane.

Limping my way over to the decrepit, flimsy desk my parents so gratefully let me have. The small mirror with a crack running down the side hanging above it.

I brace my self on the edges, holding my head down. Preparing myself for the image I know will stand before me.

I breath, in and out. Thinking. Thinking about dreaming. Dreams I never have, dreams I wish I could have. I haven't dreamed in years. The last one I can remember was when I was 9. One year before my mother married Cal. One year before I started having nightmares. Nightmares when I sleep AND when I'm awake.

It didn't take long for those to fade too. My sleep has consisted of nothing but pure darkness. Never dreaming, not even a nightmare.

After I feel my pulse dull, I lift my head. The first thing I notice is my eyes. Always my eyes. One blue, one hazel brown. One swollen the other bruised. Purple, yellow, and pink mark my face. Bruises and cuts litter my body.

I swallow at the sight, holding back the bile rising in my throat. The constant burning, I feel in my stomach always making an appearance when I see my reflection. Always.

I lightly brush the swollen lid of my brown eye. Wincing at the flash of pain. I pull back, averting my gaze as a pinch my eyes closed. I can't see this. I can't look at myself without being sick. I can't touch myself without hating what I let them do to me. I can't sand myself. I hate me.

I miss Lana.

"MAGNOLIA!" the yelling starts. My stepfather bellowing for me to come downstairs. I already slept in far longer that I should have.

I hold my head up, pull my body straight. Fighting the pain. Physical and mental.

I pull my hair back brushing it into a high ponytail, away from my face. Tying it back and heading for the door to my room. Pulling it open, I breath. I just breath. I shut everything else off.

I can't risk having my heart on my sleeve, or my mind wander to a better place. A place away from here.

Limping down the stairs, I'm greeted with my stepfather waiting at the bottom. His arms crossed, his knuckles still bruised from the contact of my face. His expression cold, wrinkled and mean.