1 memory 1776

the little girl looked outside of her dungeon cell/ bedroom window taking in the black starless night as the cold bitter wind blew. the graves sitting across the street looking back at her almost beckoning her to come over and say hello. she wouldn't though. her aunt and uncle wouldn't allow for that to happen even if they were kind folk.

with a sigh she stepped away from the stone window letting her soft light blonde hair spin around with her movements, deep purple eyes with a full set of black eyelashes taking inventory of her tiny new "bedroom" covered in darkness.

her little cot resting in the left hand corner, a small dresser next to the cot was sitting full of simple wool clothes slaves were made to wear. a lantern perched on the corner of the dresser out of oil. the door to the dungeon five steps away from her cot and four black stone walls standing motionless staring back at her without giving any comfort to the lonely child.

this wasn't home. it was only her sixth day here in the dungeon like room after they buried her mother in the family tomb across the street with all the other graves of vampires and humans. just like her mother wanted.

she was use to having everything handed to her as she was the heiress to brokdale estate. how would and heiress end up going from riches to ruins? the poor girls father was never seen again after finding out her mother was pregnant with a girl. the aunt and uncle wanted everything for themselves leaving her with nothing. her whole world turning upsidedown in a final breath of this world. when the girl turned nineteen everything would be avenged to her. until then....

a small tear slowly ran down her pale white cheek "mamma...." her cry rang out into the darkness escaping her perfect pink lips as more tears shamelessly spilled out. crying and trembling with every breath she was finally left alone. she thought of her mother sleeping away in the black coffin with white interior.

her dark blonde hair spread across the white pillow, red painted lips making her pale skin stand out. a straight nose that curled up slightly at the end. eye's closed forever hiding the same eyes her daughter has with matching black lashes. brown eyebrows arched perfectly. almost like a doll. arms folded against her chest. peaceful. quiet. forever gone.

black velvety wings started to emerge from the girls shoulders coming out easier then they had the first time. rubbing her shoulders in rememberance a small sad smile formed on her lips with tears in her eyes. the burning feeling that came felt like white fire though her veins. much like how one feels turning into a vampire. the tearing of porcelain white skin freeing them from being trapped underneath.

from the darkness came the shadows inching closer and closer to the girl but she wasn't afraid of them. they were her friends. her protectors. herself alone could see and communicate with them. they came to her as they felt her sorrow light a moth to the flame.

the girl walked close to her cot she was to sleep on but instead fell on the cold unforgiving dirt floor curling up into a ball as she again started to cry in deep anguish for the one she lost. a child her age shouldn't have to go through this. to feel so lonely and worthless. to have everything she has ever known ripped from her. it wouldn't ever be the same. the night her mother died she took a piece of her daughter with her. a piece she could never regain back. her heart shattered the night her mother died and she herself got wings. a reminder that now she could never forget. stuck in immortality with memories of those passed.

finally after some time she fell asleep where she lay exhausted after crying her pain out with her shadows surrounding her trying to comfort the only way they knew how. her hands losely closed into fists, her wings covering her small frame like a blanket and lips slightly parted taking slow breaths in and out. the heiress of brokdale. a fallen angel.

the shadows retreated from the girl as sunlight started to shine through the barred window. standing in the corners of the room they watched as their mistress lay motionless on the floor. hearing the door click they saw an elderly lady with long gray hair tied loosely at the nape of her neck, tan skin with wrinkles showing just how old she was and light blue eyes that never seemed to miss a single detail entered the room. a small gasp escaping from her cracked pink lips as she saw the girl with wings. completely entering the room she hurriedly shut the heavy door and went to the young girl.

picking the girls head up the old woman scanned her face.. everything else was normal besides the velvet black wings with speckles if gold that glistened in the morning light. she sighed. " how are we going to hide this from your aunt and uncle ravenna?" she questioned the girl sadly. her many years of being a house maid to the featherstones she only witnessed one such creature. ravenna's great great grandfather jason featherstone turned into a fallen angel after his wife passed causing him to shatter his heart.

there was no cure and death could only be achieved one of two ways. if one did it themselves or if a person they truely love stabbes them directly in the heart. for jason it was suicide. the girl started stirring in the old woman's arms and deep purple eyes with red rings from the tears she cried the previous night slowly opened to stare at her.

"good morning mrs. rosenbrink" the girl spoke softly to the old woman."what brings you down to the dungeon this day?"

"i came to see you dear child. i see your heart shattered... how are we going to explain this to your aunt and uncle?" the old woman spoke not hiding her fear for herself or ravenna.

"we don't tell them mrs. rosenbrink. we live daily like nothing has happened until i'm strong enough to make them pay their greivences." ravenna spoke firmly while standing up. taking a deep breath she willed the wings to go back into hiding. after a couple of minutes they were gone. nodding her head the old woman watched and knew. this girl would change everything.

"come. get dressed and let's begin with our chores. i'll wait for you to get ready." with that she stood up, opened the heavy door and walked out to wait. ravenna hurried to get in the itchy wool attire and met mrs. rosenbrink outside the dungeon door to see a dimly lighted stone hallway. following her they made their way to the kitchen to make breakfast.

so was the routine for thirteen years. get up, make breakfast for her aunt and uncle, go prune the garden, clean with windows and whatever else was asked by mrs. rosenbrink. secretly learning how to read and write, learning her manners and what to say and do. the years ticked by until she was nineteen.