04// An orphan, a strange lady, and an even stranger place

~past~

It was a day full of misery. This misery seemed to swarm around a young woman hurriedly running across the coast of California. It wasn't so much of a scurry past people walking down the beach in San Diego, but it was more of a run. The woman ran harder than her legs could take her, like she was racing in a marathon: and she was falling behind.

What was it that was chasing her?

You have nowhere to run now, human. Raidne chided. She scratched the sand as she crawled on the coastline, hissing at people passing by. Her sunken holes that were never eyes, were on fire as the woman threw a torch at one of her eyes. "YAIIII-ARRGGHHH!" Raidne growled in pain, as she continued to chase the woman.

Even as she was growling in pain, dhatins of Blight didn't feel pain. Why in fact, they used pain to emerge a more monstrous form out of themselves. They, whom had shriveled, and small bodies. They who didn't stop hunting human flesh until they were:

Satisfied.

But this Raidne was different. She was what the peaceful dhatins called a savage. No, more of a binge eater. She used her abundant strength and twenty-feet long spiked tongue to her advantage. Since one of her fellow dhatins of Blight, Justin had stolen her food at supper, she was going to replace that meal she longed.

Oh, what a meal it was to such binge eaters. They didn't stop for just one kill, but ten a night, and they liked to play with their food.

While most civilized dhatins of Vampire, Blight and Jenglot went to the Requiem market to obtain their food, peacefully, there were some savage binge eaters like Raidne who loved to hear their food scream.

" Yaiii, tasty!! Come here, come here!" Raidne spat at the woman, as the slit in her mouth stretched to her ears. Licking off the blood off the hand that she captured from the woman, she simply wanted MORE.

As the woman ran as fast as her little legs could take her, those long, stretched legs of the Blights could not compare. There was something about this woman that Raidne found the need to prance 'round and play with her food. For it wasn't the woman that this Blight dhatin wanted.

It was the small bundle that she was carrying in her arms.

A baby.

Raidne went so far as to torture this woman even more by learning to speak English, just so she could mock the human language.

" You can't run for long human!" Raidne sneered, as she was drawing in closer to the woman.

*******

The woman, looking around her, and seeing that she was safe, calmed her nerves.

" Are you okay, my sweet Amity?" She cooed at the quiet baby in her arms. She took the bundle out of her arms and started to weep. This woman, draped in a long red cape and hair as black as a raven's feathers were perturbed. Not for herself, but for her child.

Weeping silently for the life of her baby, she wiped the blood off of her hand-less arm. The silence was in the midst, and the air was clean but the stench of rotten, mushy blood stayed.

Crunching her feet silently among the Elfin Forests of San Diego, she listened to the sound of the wind usher her closer still. As the big oak trees looked down on the woman as she walked slowly past where she stood, she was scared. Scared for that day, which was today: that she'd become the centerpiece of a feast for the dhatins of Blight. "No. I have to stay b-br-" She was cut off by a strange sound.

" Help! Can somebody please h-h-he-lp me!" A small child's voice was quivering, the woman could hear the sound of teeth chattering.

No. She couldn't help the child. She thought to herself. It was much too dangerous, for the child may suffer a greater danger if that monster was to eat him too.

The child was crying now, and its teeth chattering as it begged to the woman, " Please! Anyone. Please." The woman could tell that the child was a he, and he needed to be saved. The woman was shivering herself, but as she found the small child near the creek, she removed her cloak and wrapped it around the child.

Then the woman heard something. Looking around, shivering, she tried looking for the child, but he was nowhere to be found.

" Where are you?" Her lips were frozen from the cold air, and the pain in her arm was getting moldy. The place that she once had a connection in her bones to her hand, was surrounded by beetles.

" Get off!" She tried to shoo them away. But the more she tried to wipe her hand clean, the more came back as if they invited their siblings to a feast that was her arm.

As the woman walked further into the forest, she heard a distant voice.

Screaming.

That monster already is devouring that child! She thought and fear rippled up her skin and tingled her fingers on her left hand, the only hand she had left.

But no.

The child wasn't there.

*******

" Yaiiiiii! There you are, my supper! I see you have come right... To me." Raidne spooked up behind her, and the woman tried to muffle a scream.

Don't let her see your fear. She thought to herself. She wasn't about to die.

She was about to be supper.

And, just like that, the woman was shorn into pieces. The monster ripped every last piece of hair in her skull and made bloody footprints across her dead body. Her head was cut off by its long dark nails made of tar. Slobber was all over her bloody body as she cried out, " Help. Help! Help!! Pleas-"

And her eyes were ripped off her face. "Tasty" The creature cooed to itself, licking its lips.

Next, the creature's long spiked tongue emerged from its throat, and black beetles with sharp teeth sunk into the woman's stomach. Her stomach was no longer a stomach, but a piece of meat to these monsters.

" Good. Now my dinner is complete." The monster cooed, and it devoured her: bit by bit.

Until all was left of her was bone.

~Past of Amity: her POV at age twelve~

For Mrs. Emily Oster, otherwise known as Aunt Ossie, she couldn't care less about us orphans at the San Marcus Foster Homes.

I personally think that she was sent from the demons of hell to scavage this Earth in search of foster children that she could sink her small-razor teeth in. Teeth that she spent every morning, whitening with Crest whitening strips and matching toothpaste. As for me and the kids, we were forced to shine our yellowing-teeth in charcoal and cheap toothpaste that was used for toddlers.

" A-ami! A-ami! Can I have a hug?" Ollie plopped next to me, his little hands initiating a huge bear-hug. While being tackled down by the small child, I grimaced at the scene before me: Ms.Oster's rubber slippers were thrown across the cramped room, straight at the new kid.

I gave Ollie a quick but genuine hug, before getting up from what I was doing in the kitchen. Aunt Ossie had ordered the older ones to do the cooking before feeding the chickens outside in the farmlands. The new kid was whimpering from the bruise on her forehead and soon her whimpers turned into quiet sobbing.

" Are you okay, Tess" I asked her gently, and tapped her forehead to make sure she wasn't hurt badly. She scowled, saying, " I don't need the pity of someone who's never been adopted after all these years."

She said this like she was mocking me. The other little kids had started to form a crowd around me, and they all snickered at her remark. I wasn't baffled by their rude remarks. In fact, I was happy for them. At least they were able to grow up with a family after two weeks at this dreadful place.

" Okay! Chop, chop. Go back to your stations!" Aunt Ossie hissed at the crowd of children surrounding me. She gave me a scornful sneer as if she was agreeing with the little brats. But, it wasn't like I was ever going to get adopted; for they were just stating the truth.

" Oh, cheer up Amity! Those brats don't know what they're talking about. I'm sure you'll get adopted before you turn thirteen." Calise told me these words of encouragement and patted me on the back, before sneaking in a wink. It was easy for her to say. She had just turned the ripe age of ten years old and she was to be adopted today, by a lady living in Bali, Indonesia.

Aunt Ossie, surveying the kitchen and the rooms of the orphanage was in haste. It was only one o'clock and she was already off schedule for meeting with Ms. Johannson.

The children, frightened by her booming voice and bossy and rude attitude, all straightened their postures and put on fake smiles. The older ones, which consisted of twelve-year-old me and the soon-to-be-adopted Calise of ten-years-of-age, swept the corners and prepared the sweets for Ms.Johannson and her guests.

"Places everyone! Places!" Aunt Ossie boomed irritatingly, as the little ones got out of line and started to brawl with one another. She rolled her eyes, and just as she was about to yell to the children to behave themselves, two beautiful women appeared.

The first woman was of tall and skinny physique, with slender cheekbones and flushed cheeks matched with coral lipstick. She adorned a long blue fur coat and a ruffled indigo-colored blouse. Her hair was cut in a short blonde pixie cut.

The second woman was curvy and small, about 5'2 in height, but thick black hair curled up past her waist. Her eyes were almond and her small smile was kind.

" Ah, Ms.Johannson! You've made it at last." Aunt Ossie squealed like an excited little girl, to the first woman. Ms.Johannson waved her gloved hand in disgust, and said in a high class, snotty manner, " If you're here to advertise yourself, I should've never have come here. I could've just ordered by guards to pick up the girl." She was eyeing Calise as she said this, and her sharp, feline eyes shimmered from behind her black Oakleys.

"Come along, girl," Ms.Johannson said, ushering Calise over to her, and walking away from a shocked Aunt Ossie. However, the second woman didn't move. Her feet remained planted on the marbled floors of the kitchen, and she glanced over at me with a smile.

And then she asked, " Mrs.Oster, I would like to adopt this girl." She said, pointing at me. The crowd of children gasped, and Aunt Ossie remained silent.

I couldn't help but smile to myself.

******

" What is your name, girl?" The woman asked me in a soothing voice. Her voice was like silk, smooth, and sweet.

" My name's Amity," I told her with a smile.

" Can I call you ma'am?" I asked her, addressing her kindly. She was the first adult that's ever treated me with such kindness, and I didn't mind returning the favor.

However, the woman only frowned, and took my hands in hers saying, " Call me mother." Those sweet, gentle words she uttered to me were soft, like touching cotton fluff. The way she treated me with such gentle words and kind smiles was so enduring, and I felt like I wanted this day to last forever.

******

After a few days with the woman, I now call a mother, I've never felt more joyful. She introduced me to the place we would call our home, a small cottage on the outskirts of Bali. The cottage was homey, made of grey stone and its roof made of wood painted in a light cream color. There were many trees around the house, and spiderwebs clogged the windows, but: it was perfect. Nothing would compare to such a beautiful home.

" I know this place is a bit rusty. But don't worry! Even though it was an old house of my grandfathers, I'm sure that with a bit of work and painting, this here cottage will make a lovely home." She grinned wide at me, and her face was glowing with such happiness and pride to create such a home.

I loved her already.

" Yeah," I said, and she took my hand in hers, and we walked among the flower fields surrounding the small cottage. As we played a game of tag and hide and seek along with the fields, I could see that we both were glowing with this feeling of happiness. This feeling seemed to welcome our hearts with such purity and hope. A purity that was our bond, and hope that was the result of our friendship. The relationship I developed with this woman I called mother bloomed.

Soon, within a few months of knowing her, it felt like I knew her for years. We told our secrets, our hopes, and dreams with one another, not knowing about the pain of our sufferings but rejoicing in them.

Little bits by little bits.

" What would you like for your birthday?" Mother asked me, holding out a blooming baby-pink carnation out at me. She was so full of life, always cleaning the cottage and helping me learn how to read, making funny jokes here and there.

But now, she was talking serious stuff.

" Birthday?" I asked her, wondering what that meant.

" Yes. A birthday. A day that you get to celebrate your date of birth! Your day to be the queen! A day that you get to prance around and toot your own horn. Why? Because it's your day. No one can tell you otherwise, and I'll make sure of that." Mother was tickling at my stomach as she said this gleefully. She enveloped me in a giant bear hug.

I looked down, and let go of her embrace. Aunt Ossie used to tell me that there was no such special day, was she making this up?

So I decided to ask her.

" Mother, what is a birthday?" I questioned, and I cocked my head t the side in wonder and peculiar interest in the subject.

A smile creeps up her mouth, and she looks at me with a look that hinted she had an idea.

" Why don't we make today your birthday, my dear Amity." She said, and I couldn't think of a more excellent plan.

****

"This is my daughter, Amity." The woman that was previously known as Ms.Nugraha says to Mrs.Johannson, the strange Swiss lady next door. Now, as of a mere two weeks, she was my mother. Mother motions to me to come forward like she somehow owed the scary lady an explanation for my existence, so she had to prove to her that I wasn't the scum of the Earth.

Well, technically I was from the place I liked to call the scum of the Earth.

I managed a small smile as I introduced myself to the so-called Mrs.Johannson, " It's very nice to meet you, ma'am."

Her smile was traced with a coat of disgust as she shook my hand half-heartedly. "Good to meet you too, dear." She said this as kind as she could. However, it just looked to me like she just saw the devil and not just some twelve-year-old girl.

Peeking behind her, hidden by his mother's back and buried in his mother's giant fur coat, was a little boy. He was short, even shorter than me. He had the same blond hair and sapphire-blue eyes as his mother. Whimpering like a stray dog, he was a pity to look at, with his skinny arms and legs that looked like sticks. Looking afraid, and a copy and paste sickening smile, he stared at me. Was I really that scary that this kid was afraid of me?

But the real question was whether or which I deserved people to look at me any other way.

Mother, with her sweet smile and welcoming face, bent down at the little boy's level and held out a hand saying, " And, who are you dear?" She said these words with such kindness in her heart, but the little boy continued to whimper like the brat he was.

" Teman saya, jangan khawatir." Mrs.Johannson said to my mother in a thick Indonesian accent, and I remained to stay silent because I didn't know a word of such a language. My mother, inattentive to her surroundings, didn't hear me when I asked her what Mrs.Johannson was saying.

So I remained silent and wandered.