Post by Natasha Pierce on Aug 25, 2014 23:07:58 GMT -5
Oh you can't hear me cry. From where you're standing, on your own...
This house no longer feels like home.
Fall was on it's way. It was evident from the new found chill in the air. Natasha walked along the streets of her childhood. She had played in the playground across the street so many times that she bet that her hand prints were still on those monkey bars. Natasha had to come home. She was torn between two options: Come home and go to school or stay at Camp Half Blood for the full year. She had always come home, but these were dark times, there was no denying it. She needed more time to train. To harness her power, to not get tired as her power drained her. Her mom would know what to do. She reached her front door. The handle was cold to the touch. Opening it, she stepped through the threshold.
"Mom?" she called.
The house seemed empty. Natasha looked around: There was large scorch marks on the walls, blood on the floor and talon scratches on the floor. Panic rose in her like a tidal wave. Running up the stairs two at a time, Natasha followed the path of blood. It ended at her mother's bedroom door. She took her sword from her side out. Brandishing the weapon, burst through the room.
Blood. That was it. Just blood. Everywhere. The sword clanged to the ground. Natasha screamed. Her mothers body lay motionless in a pool of drying blood. A black sword sticking up through her mother's chest. Natasha ran to her mother. "Mom! Mom! Please! Wake up!" she cried and screamed and nothing happened. Her mothers cool features frozen in time, forever. She shook her, begging for a sign of life...anything. Tears ran down her face. Splattering her mothers sunken face.
"Please come back to me!" she cried, tears mixing in with the blood.
Natasha tried to compose herself. Whipping tears away just as fast as they came. The blood that was on the floor and that soaked her mother had soaked through her jeans and her regrettably worn white shirt. The blood stained her hands and soon was washing them in the bathroom off of her mothers bedroom. Next she picked up the phone and dialed 911. It was the mortal way that they dealt with stuff like this.
"Hello 911" she said in a calm and collected voice. "Id like to report a murder." Natasha gave the address and then hung up. She walked from her childhood home. A single tear ran down her face. It would be the last tear that Natasha Pierce ever shed. I'm Natasha Pierce she said to herself I survived the death of my entire family...I'm a survivor.
words:431
outfit:Click
notes: This is a one shot...no responses
