Chapter One: Leianna
“Trova you have to be careful.” The words ring in my ears, the name rings in my ears. The name I have heard before, so many times, the echo in my ears throughout my entire life, the name, the girl I cannot shake. The girl I must shake. The girl I am told is meant to be better than me, no that is not the word. The girl who is meant to be good, to be pure, to be raised and blessed. Practically an angel on earth. Then there is me, her own personal counter balance. Today I will meet my own nemesis or so I am told. So it has been planned and schemed for me. I have to go meet the girl who has been the other side of my life that I have never met, an illegal bond. I am about to become the anomaly. Someone’s own personal nightmare or so I am told. For I am the unworthy one… or at least compared to her and them, I will be.
“Good morning my princess.” My mother greats me with that smile of hers, so sharp but charming all at once. She is in a good mood, a bit prickly, that wouldn’t be considered unusual if it wasn’t for that nervous glance at me when I sit down at the table. A huge breakfast is put before me. “It’s a big day for you.” Like I could forget with the weight of her smile.
“Let her eat in peace dear, she will do what needs to be done.” My father’s words are heavy this morning; I know what I have to do. Turning another soul dark, but not just that, turning mine permanently. I have twenty-four hours to set my soul on a course for the rest of my natural life. Not just my own soul either, it is not just my soul the darkness is calling for, it wants her too. The name that haunts my life. Trova faces the same twenty-four-hour window to set her soul on course for the rest of her natural life. That is if she knows, just because I am aware of what I am.
Finally, I speak “If she is unaware then it will be easy.” I try to sound confident stuffing a fork full of food in my mouth trying to force myself to eat. To remain composed. I don’t want to eat but I can see the expectancy in their eyes, watching me, measuring me, I cannot falter or fail now. If I do, later I stand no hope.
“Have you decided how you will… persuade her?” My mother has that familiar mischievous glint in her eyes the kind she has before she does something embarrassing and morally reprehensible. Not that my own moral compass strictly points the path to the right thing. I shake my head no and put my fork back down.
“There is no point in a strict plan until I know what I face. A general idea is enough for me, until I know the enemy how can I begin to thwart it?” I ask so nonchalantly my father beams with pride, like he could see every image of his own self in me. But I am not my father. Nor my mother. Nor am I him. Despite what is expected of me, what is demanded and wanted and desired of me I am not him. I want to rage it from the roof tops, every time I see that look in their eyes. That waiting for the first sign of showing what they call my true colours, my true nature. Followed by that flash of disappointment. Continue reading