Her legs thumped hard against the ground as she ran. She could hear her heart racing as she jumped over the file of stones.
He's coming! Irene could hear the footsteps behind her coming closer. She couldn't let him catch her.
Up ahead, Irene noticed a fallen log, big enough to hide behind so she increased her pace, jumped over and crouched low behind it.
Her assailant was a tall man whose face was hidden by the hood of his cloak. In his hand was a dagger that had strange markings on it.
"Irene," He called, his voice laced with danger. He darted his eyes around, while swinging the blade. "Just come out, let's get this over and done with."
Irene clamped her mouth shut to stifle the screams that were trying to escape. Tears rolled down her cheeks. What wrong had she done? All she did was go out to the only library the town had to read the books there. On their way home, this man had accosted them. He'd killed her friends, and she was the only one who'd barely escaped.
The image of Fiona and Ethan in a pool of their own blood made her shudder with fear.
"Irene," he called once more, his voice echoed through the night. He walked around and his eyes fell on the hem of her dress that was peeking out.
His lips curled into a dangerous smile as he muttered under his breath. "Found you!" He knew she wasn't going to come out so he pretended to walk away.
Irene peered through a hole in the log as soon as she heard sounds of footsteps retreating. a
He turned, his eyes fixed in her direction before disappearing in the direction they'd come.
She stayed still for some minutes, until she was certain that he was gone before she rose up to her feet.
"Thanks heavens, he's gone." A sigh of relief escaped her lips, her voice barely above a whisper.
Immediately those words left her mouth, she felt a head on her shoulder and she froze
"Got you!" He whirled her around forcefully.
She lost her balance and fell to the floor, her eyes widened in fear. There he was, standing over above her, the dagger lifted over his head, ready to strike.
"Please!" She screamed as his hand came down. At that moment, she felt a sharp pain, it wasn't from her stomach but her face.
Irene woke up instantly, her hair disheveled and her eyes darted across the room just in case the killer had not magically appeared in her room. Beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead as her chest rose and fell.
"What sort of dream was that? She ran her hand through her tousled hair. Who was that man and why did he want her dead?" This was the second time she was having nightmares.
Tiffany her sister leaning on the wall next to her.
The moment she saw her, She flew off her bed
and for a second there, she thought she was
going to die of a heart attack.
"Do you realize it's 6 in the morning? Tiffany frowned at her.
Irene was the only one in the entire house that had a clock in her room yet their father insisted that she wake Irene up every day just so she wouldn't be late for school. That made her boil with anger.
Why would he use his entire savings to buy a clock if she wasn't going to use it?
"I'm sorry," Irene rose to her feet. "I was having—"
"Spare me." Tiffany cut her off rudely. "You are the one going to school, yet I have to wake you up." She hissed in annoyance.
"I'm sorry." Irene apologized, but Tiffany had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and as always she'd had enough of Irene.
"I don't understand why father insist on sending a worthless piece of shit like you to school."
One would think that Irene was the younger one with the way she hung her head down, letting Tiffany talk trash to her. Why?
She'd done everything that a big sister would do to make Tiffany like her but all her kind gestures were met with hate.
"Come down your royal highness." Tiffany gave a mock bow. "Breakfast is almost ready." She hissed and walked out slamming the door hard.
Irene exhaled deeply, crouched low to pack up her books that she'd left scattered on the floor last night. She wiped off the tears that were gathering in the corner of her eyes. If her father walked in and saw her in tears, he'd make Tiffany cry and that was the last thing she wanted.
After cleaning her teeth, she went out to the kitchen. Tiffany was still in the kitchen making breakfast.
"I've turned into a maid in my own home." She dropped the lid of the pot noisily. All Irene did was read, read, read, while she slaved away doing chores.
"Uhm.." Irene stuttered. "Can I help with the dishes?"
Tiffany who was stirring the stew looked up at her, the hatred and anger burning in her eyes.
"What I need you to do is die! Die so that I can have peace."
Irene felt her words slice her heart like a blade. She bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from tearing up. No, Irene. You can't let her words break you, if you keep showing her how much you love her, she'll definitely love you.
Irrespective of the fact that Tiffany kept hurling insults at her, Irene went ahead to do the dishes while Tiffany cooked.
It wasn't long until the door open.
"Irene!" They turned sharply in the direction of the voice. Rotham, their father stood by the doorway. He looked at Irene who had a plate then at Tiffany who looked scared.
"Good morning father," Irene quickly dropped the plate and rushed over to him. "You're home early." Rotham was a night guard at the home of a wealthy man. He wasn't supposed to be home until eight in the morning.
"How dare you let Irene do the dishes?" He yelled at Tiffany.
"Father," Irene called. "It's jus—"
He held up his arm, a way of telling her that he wasn't interested in hearing whatever she had to say.
"Father, I told her not to but she insisted." Tiffany replied. "I—"
"The next time I see Irene doing any chores while your worthless self is here, you'll wish you were dead." He gave her a stern warning before walking away.
Tiffany's grip on the ladle tightened. All these sufferings was because of Irene. "You're happy right? You knew he was going to be come home early, that's why you insisted on doing it right?"
"No, no Tiffany." Irene replied quickly. "I just wanted to help you out." She really did mean what she said, but Tiffany thought otherwise.
"I hate you." She dropped the ladle. "I hate the sight of you, I hate you so much, I just wish you'd get run over by a carriage!"