It had been one whole week since I had been smuggled out of the hospital and none of my memory had returned. Sometimes I dreamt about the night when I was marked, but that was the only pre-coma memory I had, if you could even call it a memory. Oliver had explained that by having the broken heart scar meant the Fallen could manipulate my mind; show me things which I would believe were true, move parts of my body without my control. This made me worried; I couldn’t tell that what I was thinking was either me or them,
“How do I know if my thoughts are my own or theirs?” I asked,
“Don’t worry Elle, we will know when they begin to manipulate your brain, they haven’t done it yet,” Oliver replied, I swallowed back the bile in my mouth, I was sick to the core of hiding in this murky house. During my time with the boys I was usually left alone as they went to do business, which I wasn’t allowed to know about, they left early and arrived home late. My bruising was almost healed; it had got that odd green colour which made me look rather sick all the time. The cuts had begun to fade but my newly acquired scar seemed to be becoming more vibrant which worried me. The good news was my limbs were stronger and I was able to move around the house as long as I remembered not to open the curtains, make any loud noises and turn on any lights.
It was exactly a week after I had been rescued when the boredom really began to kick in, it was 9 O’clock at night and the boys still weren’t back. This was quite a worrying thought, they usually came home by 7 O’clock, but I guessed if they had things to do they would come home when they were ready. I crashed down on the sofa and gazed up at the ceiling, it was an off-white colour and had patterns in the paint, a strange breeze ran over my body, making the hairs on my neck stand up. It was a cool breeze, I sat up and looked at where I must have come from, the curtain moved slightly, I stood up and guessed the window must have opened. I watched the curtain for a few more seconds, it blew again and the breeze washed over me for a second time, I carefully made my way to the window, was I allowed to close the window? What if they saw me? How dangerous was all this?
I peeled back the curtain slowly and looked out, I was suddenly face to face with a man, my eyes met his, I screamed so loud it hurt my own ears. The man’s hard face didn’t change, I jumped back and continued to scream, a high excruciating sound. The man didn’t move, he watched me with his black eyes, his lips in a hard line. The breeze blew over me again but the window wasn’t open and this made me scream louder. He glared at me and then placed a finger on his lips, my scream was cut short and silence surrounded me, I tried to scream again but no sound came out my lips, my eyes widened as he began to thump the window. The glass wobbled dangerously and he raised his fist again and hit it again, a large crack slithered up the glass, he continued to stare at me as he broke the glass down. My instincts were shouting at me to run, I spun round and headed full speed to the kitchen, I looked around there was one window and only one door. A loud crunch sounded as the black-eyed man landed on the glass inside the house. I looked around the room and ran to the window opening it and climbing swiftly out. I found myself on a street, I didn’t waste time standing there I bolted down the road, I heard his footsteps behind me. I rounded a corner and saw a group of youthful boys sitting on a wall outside a house, I ran to them.
“Help. Me!” I panted relieved my voice had recovered, but something made me stop dead in my tracks, each of their black eyes watched me. One boy removed a hood and smiled at me, a flash of white teeth, it was enough to send me backing away but he advanced his eyes hungry for something. I stood back and froze as I realised I was surrounded in a dark alleyway; the rest of the boys circled me as though I was prey for their food. I bit my tongue to stop from screaming, I was dead.
“Come on, she’s not going to hurt you,” said a deep voice from behind the circle, all the boys turned away, all but the one who was still smiling. His black eyes watched my petrified reaction, I balled my hands into fists he was so close I could almost… I swung my arm at his face as hard as I could, it hit him full on. He didn’t even react; he only raised one eyebrow provocatively and grabbed me, his strong arms encircling me leaving me no room to even squirm. I blinked, my eyes became heavy, I blinked again and didn’t reopen my eyes.
I awoke in a bright room, the sun shone in from the window and birds sang in the distance, I let my eyes adjust and I looked around. There was lots of modern art surrounding me and a huge high definition television rested on the wall, no one else was in the room with me but as I sat up the door opened. My eyes widened in terror as all the memories from last night returned, a boy with dark brown hair and black eyes strolled in whistling.
“Good morning,” he sang, his black eyes watched me as I watched him, he laughed. “I came to bring you breakfast and apologize,”
“For what?” I asked acidly,
“On behalf of Zac who knocked you out last night,” he said simply handing me some toast with jam, I smiled and then wiped the smile away as I remembered who I was smiling at, my newest captor.
“How is Oliver?” he asked coming to sit next to me, I looked at the toast deciding whether it was safe to eat,
“You have nothing to do with Oliver. He’s going to come and save me,” I growled,
“Ooo, defensive,” the boy jeered, I scowled and bit into the toast, I was so hungry. “My name is Cameron, you can call me Cam,” he held out his hand, I ignored it, he rolled his eyes and I watched as my hand moved towards his and shook it without my control.
“How did you do that?” I asked shaking my hand out in disbelief,
“It’s a secret,” he tapped his nose,
“Don’t you ever do it again,” I snapped, the smirk wiped off his face and I smiled slightly. He sat back in the chair and watched me eat,
“Finished?” he asked as I ate the last piece of toast, I put the plate down and stood up,
“Thank you for you hospitality but I’m afraid I have to be somewhere,” I said, Cam laughed loudly,
“You are right, you do have to be somewhere,” he took my hand, his was stone cold I pulled away reflexively but he held it tight, he dragged me towards the door and into a huge room. It had a three times higher ceiling than the other room and a sort of throne at the other end, there was a carpet leading to it and someone was sat on it. Cam pushed me towards the chair and I reluctantly walked, he dropped my hand and walked behind me, I stopped and he pushed me forward whispering something about how he was able to manipulate my legs too. Cam bowed a low bow to the chair, I looked up and froze, goosebumps rose on my arms and I began to shake. Memories from the night replayed in my head and I cried a soft whimper, standing in front of me was a tall, black-eyed, dark skinned, white toothed boy.
“Isabella!” he laughed delighted as though we were lifelong friends, he wasn’t as old as he appeared at first as he hopped down the stairs casually and met me at the bottom. He wrapped his arms around me unexpectedly in a hug, electricity pulsed through his touch and I tensed, my heart began to pound and my head became dizzy.
“You have hardly changed!” he cried, I cringed away from him; I was finally face to face with the boy who bruised my skin, pressed me against the wall, the one who had scarred my wrist. The one who left me alone to die in the dark alley.
“It’s you,” I said my voice hateful and full of acid,
“I am honoured you remember!” he smiled, not offended by my snide comment. “Do you remember my name?” I shook my head,
“I barely know you, I just remember what you did to me,” I growled,
“No harm no foul,” he laughed, “My name is Zac,” he offered his hand and beamed at me. “Zac Archeaven.”