What now?
He tossed me the keys he used to unlock my room.
“You’ll be needing these.”
Then without another word, he left, closing the door behind him.
Sighing I lay down on my new bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow I would be starting high school.
Fan-freakin’-tastic.
CHAPTER TWO
Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do I couldn’t help but fall asleep. When I opened my eyes, I was hardly surprised to find that I wasn’t in my dorm. I wasn’t even in Eden Prep. I was back in New York City in the home of Catherine and William Angel, stark naked and scared to death.
I knew this was a dream, or rather, a nightmare. One of many nightmares I’d had ever since I could remember. But my nightmares weren’t exactly what you’d call normal. I am not even sure that they could be classified as dreams because for some reason I was able to experience pain in them. And that’s all these dreams were for me—pain. Whenever my false parents would brutalize me, I would have to relive the experience in my dreams. There was no escape. I couldn’t even stay awake all night. Every time I tried, my body would betray me and go to sleep anyway.
Tonight was no different. I had been hoping—in vain it seems—that a change of scenery might provide me a goodnight’s sleep. But I guess my mind doesn’t work that way.
I was now about to relive one of the worst beatings I ever received at the hands of William and Catherine.
I tried to push the fear from my mind but it was proving difficult. Especially, since I was now ten years younger.
I began to sob as one of the family servants placed a collar around my neck and attached it to a leash.
Ignoring my tears, the man got to his feet and proceeded to parade me around the house like an animal. But that wasn’t the worst of it, for the servant led me into a room that was filled with my parents’ silver-eyed friends.
I barely had time to register the fact that they were all holding various weapons before a whip cut into my flesh like a knife.
I fell to floor amid gales of laughter, crying hysterically.
Through my tears I watched as a second servant bent down to collect them from the floor and distribute them amongst the guests.
The whip cut my flesh again and again. I cried, screamed, and begged for them to stop. But my pleas fell on deaf ears. My tears were far more precious than my life to these people.
When the whipping subsided scalding hot water was poured on me. After that, I was stabbed, punched, kicked, and even burned.
I wished they would just kill me, but I knew that was impossible; my body healed much too quickly for me to die.
Several hours later, I lay curled on the floor sobbing into a puddle of my own blood.
My parents’ friends seemed to have had their fill of torturing me, for they were talking among themselves as though I wasn’t even there. Among the chatter, I was able to discern Catherine’s voice.
I looked up and spotted her not too far from where I lay. I proceeded to crawl toward her, my body being in too much pain to walk.
“M-Mother,” I sobbed reaching out one hand in her direction, “Mother—help me.”
A sour expression passed over her face.
“Get this boy out of my sight,” she barked to one of the servants.
My hand fell to the floor as a servant proceeded to drag me out of the room. The dream went black, and when I opened my eyes I was back in my dorm.
I sat up and I heard the clatter of several crystal tears hitting the floor.
Looking down I examined my sheets. They were covered in blood. This was another weird thing about my nightmares: whatever happened to me in the dream world also happened to me in the real world.
There was a knock on my door.
I started.
I half expected an Angel family servant to enter my room and collect my tears as they used to do back in New York. But I wasn’t in New York and my false parent’s couldn’t hurt me anymore—except in my dreams.
CHAPTER THREE
I got to my feet gingerly and stretched. I then hurriedly gathered up my bloody sheets and shoved them in the closet. I had to do the same with my clothing because it too was covered in blood. I also tossed in my tears—just to be one the safe side. I then made my way back to my bed, slid under the sheets and glanced at the door.
Had I remembered to lock it last night?
“Come in,” I called sleepily.
The door opened.
Nope, guess not.
In the doorway there stood a sandy-haired, pointy-faced boy wearing, what I could only assume, was the school uniform.
As far as uniforms go they weren’t that bad, really: black slacks with a white blazer. The blazer was trimmed in black and had the school crest embroidered on the left breast pocket. I eyed the school crest. It was a shield with a tree emblazoned upon it. Underneath the blazer was a white tie and black button-up shirt—probably long sleeved.
“My name is Jason Cole,” announced the boy in a cheery voice, “As the President of this school, I would like to officially welcome you to Eden Prep.”
Figuring that I might as well pretend to enjoy it here, I extended my hand.
“Amadeus Angel.”
I really hated to use my false parents’ surname but I figured that I might as well keep up appearances. At least until I knew what was going on.
Jason strode up to me and shook my hand.
“I know. Professor Stone sent me here to help you get situated. Here is your class schedule.”
I knew he must have already read it because there was a sort of awe in his voice.
He handed me a piece of paper. I took it and gave it a once over. I could see why he was impressed; all my classes were much more advanced than that of a normal fifteen-year-old.
I was sure that Victoria’s father had a hand in deciding my classes, but I was still unsure why he put me in twelfth grade.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Jason was still standing there looking expectant.
“Actually, there is. Where is the bathroom? I need to freshen up before class.”
“Right down the hall.”
“Thanks.”
