Chapter 2 – Cinder (Age Unknown)
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are gray,
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away...”
With my lips curling around that song, I held my palms in front of my face. Then I spread my fingers and stared at the different shades of the sky peeking between them. The pink, purple, and yellow of the morning sun merged with the blue, giving it life. Slowly, I let my hands drift away from my face until my arms could extend no more. Still, against my blood-red palms, the picture-perfect morning sky glowed in its serenity.
I wondered what it would feel like to have that sunshine brightness against my skin. Would it be warm and gentle? Or would it burn my skin until I turned red? With a soft sigh, I stepped forward, turning my palms outward until the rough texture of the canvas grazed my flesh. My hands flew over the paper, circles, and squares, up and down, slow and fast.
Breathing hard, I stepped back and stared.
Now cast in the shade of blood, my serene picture looked more appealing against my room’s green and black walls. Yet it brought me no happiness, no excitement, no changed future. It did nothing. Slowing my breaths to a gentle sigh, I picked up the destroyed picture and tore it to pieces, wishing I could wipe away my life just as quickly.
Then I proceeded to clean up.
The harsh slide of the first deadbolt tugged at the invisible chain around my neck, pulling my anxious gaze to the door. It had been a while since his last visit or any guests came, giving my body time to heal. Now, I sighed. Would I ever get used to that grinding sound of metal against metal? Would it somehow cease to exist?
Breathing through the panic attack swirling up from my trembling feet, my eyes flew around the room.
Bed neat—sheet and blanket tucked into equal hospital corners on both sides of the mattress. Towel—hung with an exact drop on either side of the rack. Easel—upright and against the wall near the bed. Paints—closed and in their little box. Books—placed in alphabetic order on the bookshelf. My eyes darted to the open‘Taming of the Shrew’I’d been reading earlier.
Every visit began with Master walking around ‘my quarters’ as he called it, his eyes missing nothing in the sparsely furnished place I call my home. Done, he would stand before me, and I’d either get a ‘perfect kitten’ or something worse. Painful.
With just a moment to spare, I slipped the book into place. Having read it many times, I knew where it sat on the shelf without fumbling. Quickly I dropped to my knees, letting my black tunic’s simple material settle around me like a blanket. Hearing the scrape of the door over the tiled floor as it opened, I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and clasped my hands in prayer.
Soft footsteps approached, making me frown. Master’s were usually stiff and heavy with a slow drag from the slight limp to his left leg. Still, I didn’t dare open my eyes. Maybe this was a test because he never allowed guests down here alone. This was his private room, and me, his secret plaything.
“Oh, my God.” A voice I’d never heard, yet filled with sorrow, flooded my ears as soft hands grasped mine. “Open your eyes, Cinder.”
Mama?
Not wishing for something I knew couldn’t be true, I let my lids slowly rise, my rounded gaze falling on a pretty stranger. I’d only known Mama’s face. How did this woman know my name? Without thinking, I reached out and touched her cheek. Her skin was soft, her red lips wide in a smile, her green eyes dancing with something I didn’t recognize.
“Come.” She grasped my arms to lift me.
I shook my head. “No,” the word sounded like a croaky whisper. Locked in this room, I didn’t talk much, not even when Master visited alone or with guests. He demanded silence.
