She's got no where to go, and secrets to hide.
I sat slumped in the alleyway again, the midnight winter breeze causing me to shake uncontrollably. The dark sky above stared down menacingly, the night air mocking me, as we all knew I would not find sleep again that night. The thin black cloak covered my small brown and pink dress, but did not keep me warm. I exhaled deeply to watch the steam drift away. My mind projected images of a thousand pixies turning to dust before fading, the dust splattering blood drops beneath their whirling legs. I shook my head to rid myself of spontaneous negativity. I felt myself slipping from reality, and my mind began to wander; had I ever been in reality in the first place?
Police sirens in the distance tore me from my thoughts, ripping the from violently. I crapped my arms around my legs for comfort, remembering what it felt like to have a room, a family, a home. A life.
Well, an existance.
Flashbacks of the night I lost everything flooded my mind, overwhelming me, pinning me down and restricting my each and every breath.
"Cassandra, dear, won't you please help mother with the dishes?" my dad asked. I nodded politely and headed to the kitchen, seeing a dark grey tint to the world surrounding me. I began to help scrub the dishes, my mother fussing over the water spalshing over my new dress. It was brown, with pink details and finished just above my knees. To cover my legs, I wore a pair of off-white tights, and on my feet, a pair of black Mary Janes. The look of innocence was completed with a pink bow in my long black hair. As soon as the dishes were clean and dried, I darted to my room and gazed out side at the outside world. I felt trapped as I watched girls of my age living normal lives. while I spent my time beging trapped and smothered by my overprotective old-fashionned parents. I would occasionally sneak out of my house in between my father's lessons, but, that day I felt like doing so much more. That grey tint had gone, the world was so much brighter now. I packed as many of my belongings as I could and snuck out of the door quickly, taking some money with me. At that time, I had no idea how much I was going to need that money...
I stared across at the wall in front of me, with tears in my eyes. The memory still burnt me, tore me apart from the inside, cut me like the blade I had found solace in so many times before. But, still, despite my pain, I shut my eyes again.
I left my house quickly, running down the streets, hurrying away from my house. I didn't want my parents seeing me through the windows. People stared at me, as I did not look like them at all, and I knew that. Furthermore, they probably thought I was about 11, thanks to my parent's tastes. I knew I didn't look 15 at all. I eventually found a hotel, and paid to stay there the night as I felt rebellious and I didn't feel like going home. I hated home. The thoughts were always so much worse there...
"I'd rather be there that here," I mumbled to my surroundings. I found myself slipping back into my thoughts quicker this time, retreating back into my head.
When I awoke, I realised I had no other clothes. I grinned slightly, excited by the prospect of facing my parents. I checked out and made my way back home. As I neared my street, the air sent a shiver down my spine. I picked up speed, shaking, and sprinted to my house. It was jst ash, burnt to the ground. Quivering slightly, I approached a police officer and asked him how many had survived. My answer was simple and pure.
Sobbing hyserically now, I pulled the hood of my cloak over my face to muffle the sobs. I fought my own mind, as it wanted to pull me back in, to remind me of the shopping trips where I bought food and the cloak. The world turned red as I continued to sob harder and harder, until, eventually, my body gave in, and I fell asleep.