Child of the Morning Star Read online

  Chapter I: Atropa Belladonna

  ‘Fuck moving!’

  That was the first thought that came to her mind. She hated moving. She hated changing places. She hated all the torment and rage that followed. Atropa knew why they had to move, it was her fault; it always was. She was damned to leave every home she ever had.

  “Atropa, we’re almost there.”

  The girl’s blue eyes stared at her mother through the rearview mirror. She pressed her forehead against the glass and frowned. Atropa was seventeen, almost eighteen, at least, that’s what she thought. She couldn’t remember when her birthday was. They would always change the date after moving. A new last name and birthday at least three times a year.

  Atropa rubbed her eyes, the contacts were itchy, but she had to wear them. Her eyes caused a lot of problems. Problems that made them move. She looked at her reflection and saw the hints of purple under the colored plastic. She didn’t know why they picked blue this time. It didn’t go with her tanned skin and dark hair.

  The road was slick due to the pounding rain. It beat on the van and its windows. She trailed her finger along the glass, making the droplets move with her movements. During little moments like this, she loved her powers. She loved how she could control and bend the elements to her will.

  These quiet moments were ones of beauty and enchantment. In these quiet moments she could pretend. The raindrops danced and swirled, becoming bigger as she collected more water. She used her other hand to make another blob before forming them into two humanoid shapes, one much taller than the other. A little tune began to play in her mind. One of warmth and nostalgia that lulled her racing thoughts. She made one bow to the other before they joined hands and began to dance.

  It was just like her and the shadow.

  A flood of memories washed over her. Her hands faltered for a moment, nearly causing her creation to collapse. With shaking fingers, she continued her masterpiece. She remembered this dance vividly. A dance she had shared with the only person who had loved her. The smaller being was lifted and spun, twirled and held. Atropa felt a deep ache fill her chest, but a smile spread across her face. She made the little being almost trip but was scooped up just in time by the taller. A small giggle left her.

  “Atropa!” Her mother screeched, causing the girl to jump and let go of the water. Narrowed eyes glared at her through the rearview mirror. The teen sigh and slouched in her seat. She waited for her mother to stop looking before biting at her thumb.

  Atropa wondered where her father was. He was probably taking some back roads that no one had used since the 70s. The man seemed unnaturally aware of things long forgotten. She tugged at her dyed hair, this was the fifth time they’d dyed it this year. It felt unnatural and crinkly. Atropa could barely remember what her original hair color was. She thought it was red, but it didn’t matter, it was black now.

  Atropa shrugged. She still had her name, her weird fucking name. Her father was an archeologist and her mother a botanist, atleast, that’s what they told her. They rarely ever left to do any ‘work’, but when they did, they always came back within a couple days. She hoped she could find a job like theirs when she got older. Her nails dragged against the seat cushion.

  If she got older.

  Finally, they pulled off the highway and onto a long and dreary road. The grass was wild and tried to swallow the pavement but was run over by too many tires to succeed. Atropa sadly chuckled at that, the vegetation still tried even though it knew it was going to die no matter what. Finally a sign could be seen ‘Welcome to Ravenblack, population 1,000’. The sign was worn and being consumed by the nearby foliage from a crooked tree.

  “I guess it’s 1,003 now, huh?” her mother smiled tensely, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work, it never did.

  Atropa growled and curled against the window, “I wish it wasn’t.”

  “It wouldn’t have to be, if you had just behaved,” her mother spat back.

  Atropa wanted to argue but instead bit at her thumbnail. “Will I go to school?”

  Her mother visibly stiffened at the question, “Unfortunately, yes. The school is very small though. You shouldn’t be able to cause a lot of trouble, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Her mother mumbled the last part.

  Atropa frowned at the insinuation. “Okay,” she said. Atropa watched as the town passed them by. There were old brick townhomes that had been converted into shops. Street lamps with banners hanging from them. It was all very historic and calming. People, the few that were out, looked at them in wonder. It was as if moving was unheard of around here.

  A traffic light turned red and the van came to a stop with a squeak. Atropa continued to steal glances. There was a group of teens on the steps of an old building. Two twins, both blond, and a girl. She looked up and stared at Atropa. The girl had black hair and was pale as a ghost, but her eyes. Her eyes were scarlet. Atropa stared back. A part of her wanted to throw open the car door and run to the girl. It was an all consuming compulsion that confused her. Her hand mindlessly went to the door handle.

  As soon as she grabbed it, the stoplight flickered green and her mother sped off. Atropa was jerked and the daze she was under broke. Frantically she moved to press herself against the window. She continued to stare, seeing the girl was doing the same.

  She sat back when the girl turned into a blurred dot in the rain. Atropa bit at her nail. She never stared at people. She mostly just ignored them, all of them, but that girl. Atropa mumbled a curse. She looked at her camera. The old Polaroid sat next to her, she’d nearly forgotten about it. Realization dawned on her, she had almost ran out the car. Ran out to some stranger! Something inside her made her wish she had. A deep ache bloomed in her chest. Tears pricked at her eyes. What was wrong with her?

  Atropa mindlessly bit too hard and blood flooded her mouth. She hissed and tried to nurse her sore thumb.

  “Atropa,” her mother said, looking at her through the rearview mirror. Her eyes were narrowed in warning.

  Atropa immediately pulled her hand away from her mouth, “It was nothing, I just… it was nothing.” The teen sighed, she’d never be able to put the feeling she had into words. Connection, was probably the closet she could get. Even that didn’t feel right though.

  After a while they were driving down a gravel road, which would be a bitch when it snowed. They finally came to a halt in front of a Victorian style home. It wasn’t too far from town but definitely separated.

  The house was different shades of blues and whites. An octagonal pillar stretched out of the right side, it had circular windows and what looked like three levels. It was huge and had an old feeling to it. Atropa instantly fell in love with the place. She jumped out the car and snapped a photo. For the first time, she was happy to move. She was so used to the dreary apartments and dilapidated hovels. Now though, they had an actual house!

  “Atropa, wait!” her mother called.

  The teen already had the front door open. She ran through the empty space, it as musty and reminded her of an old library. She inhaled deeply. This place must have been vacant for a while. There were no lingering smells of past occupants.

  Atropa ascended the stairs till she was in the upper level. The walls had a strange pattern on them and the doors were chipped. Another staircase sat at the end of the hall. An attic room?

  She went up the steps and opened the door slowly. The walls were a stained off-white and the floor was made of shiny hardwood. Windows lined the ceiling and a laugh erupted from the teen. Visions of what she could do with the space flashed through her mind. She imagined her bed below the windows. It would be gorgeous on starry nights when she couldn’t sleep. Maybe when a meteor shower came she’d be able to see i
t.

  Atropa sat on the floor and rested under the light that bathed the area. She felt like she was floating in the air around her. This would be her room, not the dark and dusty basement, but here. Close to the sky and stars. Atropa looked at her camera and smiled, she hoped this place had things worth photographing.

  “Wow, this house is surprisingly renovated for how old it is,” her mother said as she climbed the stairs. She looked at the body lying in the middle of the floor. “What are you doing?”

  Atropa shrugged, “Basking in the light, I guess.” She sat up and stared at her mother. “Where’s father?” she asked.

  “He’s on his way with the movers. Come, let’s start bringing some things in.” Her mother gestured for Atropa to follow.

  The teen sighed, “Okay.” She stood and went without argument. Atropa felt happy, it was an odd emotion but one thing was still on her mind. Who the fuck was that girl?

  Chapter II: Lilith

  Hours, it took hours to move all of the boxes and lazily unload them into the house. Her parents shooed her away once the movers got there. Didn’t want her to start any trouble. She didn’t try to argue, it’s not like she wanted to be there anyway.

  Besides, wandering the new property was an adventure. One she nearly lost herself in, until a crumbled headstone caught her eye. Carefully, she stepped around it. Her blue eyes scanned the ground before her and found that she was in an old cemetery. A gnarled tree was in the center of the graveyard and tombstones circled around it. The words on them were faded and indistinguishable, worn by time and rain.

  Atropa shrugged and began to wander through the patches of moss and lush grass. The headstones were being eaten by nature, slowly falling apart. Atropa sighed. She felt bad for these people, left forgotten in the woods. She contemplated picking some flowers for them till a twig snapping caught her attention. Whipping around, she saw her. The girl! Atropa aimed her camera and a ‘click!’ rang out through the silent forest.

  Red eyes locked with fake blue. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

  The question hung in the air as silence once again fell on the dense woods. Atropa was frozen in place. She thought of running but she wasn’t that fast. The girl’s sleek long legs could probably catch up to her easily. She then thought of fighting and cringed, they had just moved and she really didn’t want to do it again.

  “Hey, you alive?” the girl asked. Her voice was smooth but startling, like thunder that rumbled in the distance. She began to walk toward the other, hopping over headstones effortlessly.

  Atropa stayed still. She cocked her head, staring into the ruby pools. “Your eyes are cool,” she mumbled.

  The girl must have heard her because she stopped. A smile split her face before a bellowing laugh left her. “What?!” she snickered, trying to catch a solid breath.

  Atropa smiled as well, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she mumbled, “it’s just, I’ve never seen someone with red eyes before or who was so pale.”

  “I’m an albino,” the girl explained. “I just dyed my hair and eyebrows. I’m surprised more people haven’t thought of it.” She chuckled and stared at Atropa. The girl seemed to buy the explanation. “You know, you look pretty odd yourself. Those eyes of yours shine like water under the full moon.”

  “Really?” No one had ever complimented her before. She didn’t really talk to enough people to get one. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You guys just move in?” the girl asked.

  Atropa nodded, visibly relaxing. “This is the fifty-fourth time!” she let out a sad laugh and gave a glance to the other. “…so why are you all the way out here?”

  The girl shrugged, “Well, I came to see the graves. I feel really bad for these guys, though they’re gone. Sucks knowing that someday you’ll be forgotten.”

  Atropa nodded. Her voice was low when she replied, “Yea, it does.”

  The girl stiffened, “Hey, I didn’t mean to bum you out. I was just thinking out loud.” She stepped closer and gave the other teen’s dyed hair a pat.

  Atropa felt a blush creeping on her cheeks, “No, it wasn’t you. I just…feel the same about it.” She smiled and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Um, I wanted to ask. Why were you looking at me today?”

  “We don’t get a lot of newcomers,” she explained, “also, you’re really cute.”

  Atropa felt the muscles around her mouth twitch. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  The girl smiled, “Yeah, I’m a pretty good smooth talker. Anyway, are you going to school here?”

  Atropa nodded. “Yep, I’m kind of nervous though.” She noticed just how tall the other was compared to her. Her short black hair was wild but framed her face beautifully. The girl must not have noticed her staring because she continued on.

  “Why? I mean the people are dicks but you can hang with me and my group of rejects.” She bumped against Atropa’s shoulder. “What do you say At…um, fuck I don’t even know your name.”

  A laugh left pink lips, “It’s Atropa, Atropa Belladonna.”

  “Damn, that’s a serious fucking name,” the girl gasped, clutching at her chest dramatically. She grinned, “You make me feel like a peasant with my shitty name.”

  “I bet your name is beautiful,” Atropa whispered. She bit her thumbnail and fiddled with the camera hanging from her neck.

  The girl cracked a grin, “Well, my lady.” She stood before the other, bowing lowly and flicking her wrist to take Atropa’s hand, “Forgive me, but I am the lowly Lilith.” She kissed Atropa’s knuckles and stood up again. “Welp, I’ll see you at school Deadly Nightshade.”

  Atropa watched the other girl walk off into the dense trees and past the crumbled tombstones. She bit her lip and smiled.

  Lilith.

  Atropa gasped seeing her photo on the ground. She blew on it and brushed the dirt away. ‘Damn,’ she mentally cursed, ‘the picture’s all screwed.’ Atropa sighed, she’d get another one soon. Biting her nail, she walked back to her new house, wondering if she should even unpack this time.

  Chapter III: Unpacking

  Hell. Moving always was, especially when you did it just a couple of months before. Atropa threw the last empty box into the hall before surveying her, half empty, masterpiece. She groaned, knowing there were more boxes downstairs and questioning if she should even continue. Sadly, her mother made it clear that no boxes were to be left packed.

  Atropa grabbed her favorite camera, she was happy she found it, and took a snapshot of what she’d done so far. The tiny picture slowly filtered through the slot. She shook it and blew, watching the image slowly appear. A giggle erupted from her. She remembered how she used to think it was a magic trick.

  The picture was warm, since it was just made, she pressed it against her cold cheek and sighed. Looking at the photo, you could see her made bed. On the floor was a collection of her newest photos and her other Polaroid. She loved these cameras, her friend gave them to her.

  Her friend.

  Atropa’s smile faltered, remembering how she would run around with the shadow. She’d snap pictures of this and that till the film ran out or she made the poor camera overheat. Those memories were her favorite. Back then, she didn’t have to think about anything. Didn’t have to worry about her parents or other kids. She saw the faded marks on her arms.

  Reality suddenly crashed upon her. Those days were over. They ended over a decade ago. Slowly the photo slipped through her fingers, it fluttered to the floor and landed silently. Atropa almost shed a tear. She refused to cry though, she didn’t want to lose control.

  * * *

  “How’s your room coming along?” her mother asked, twirling some noodles around her fork.

  Atropa poked at her spaghetti and shrugged, “I’m getting there, slowly.” She was glad they got takeout, it was the only food her parents got that didn’t make her sick or tired.

  Her mother watched her eat before sighing. She squared her jaw, “Atropa, your father and I can no longer a
fford to move around like we have in the past, it’s…it’s a very big strain. So, your father and I are asking you to behave here.”

  The teen rolled her eyes, ‘No shit.’ She looked at her father, obviously dehydrated from the lifting and lugging day. She wondered if she could lighten the mood. Atropa leant back in the chair and bit her thumbnail, “I made a friend.”

  The silence that followed the statement was maddening. The sound of blood rushing through veins could be heard. Her father blinked his tired eyes, even rubbing them. “You, you what?”

  Atropa looked at her dinner, avoiding the surprised looks her parents were exchanging. “I made a friend,” she repeated. Atropa began to regret the confession.

  Her father glared at her, “That’s what I thought you said.” He looked at her mother. “Atropa, you know why we had to move last time-”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong!” she snapped. They didn’t need to bring this up. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t!

  “Yes you did!” her mother insisted, “You know better!”

  “She was hitting me,” Atropa insisted, “I was defending myself.”

  “You threw her out a window!”

  The girl bit at her thumb, blood rising to the surface of her skin. It trailed down her hand and pooled in her palm. She wanted to remind them that it was a first story window. That girl wasn’t even that badly hurt. She was the one that came home with a broken nose, but none of that mattered. It never mattered to them. “I was defending myself,” she repeated.

  “We specifically told you to never use your curse!” Her mother roared, “You disobeyed us and you disobeyed the lord! This is all your fault.”

  She hated when they called it that. When they treated it like something she chose.

  “Fuck the lord!” Atropa screamed. A glass flew from the table and shattered against the wall. Her heart stopped. She had to remind herself that she was too old to be locked away. The mental assurance didn’t stop the rising panic though. Memories of different basements and cupboards flashed through her mind. The suffocating darkness, the sound of her nervous breathing.