* 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 *

                                    

                                          
[021]
- ☾ '☂︎︎' ☽ -
           October 20, 1999
           For a brief moment, he watched his own pitiful vessel lay beaten and bruised on the bed. It was a strange experience, one that he was accustomed to as he had been doing for as long as he knew. Through his own eyes, he observed the flowering purple of her beaten face and the dull blotches of the pale red that coated the edges of her closed eyes. Like a distant spectator, he took in his surroundings with a detached fascination. He could do nothing, though he knew in his own unfathomable mind that he wanted to. His time was spent instead, occupying the vacant areas of the child's brain. 
           She had a name . . . he knew it, Cassandra. But she didn't like it when he called her that. 
           How very subdued and harmless he felt. Like a fish drifting through a stream. Unable to interact with the dry word outside of its restrictive habitat.
           Cassidy moved and sharply jerked awake, accidentally pulling her I.V. out of her arm. Her dark eyes focused and unforced at her surroundings. She was in her bedroom. There was a mirror on her bedside table she could see herself in and a drip was hanging above her head. She sat up and immediately held her hand over a large gauzy bandage on her stomach. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a piece of purple paper on the edge of her nightstand. On the cover, written in neat tidy letters, was a heartfelt apology that she didn't even bother reading.
           She scowled and snatched it, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it as hard as she could across the table.
           Well, that's not very nice. 
           The voice was so low that it made her jump. 
           "Please leave me alone," she muttered quietly.
           In his own seemingly distant amusement, he remained quiet. Not out of politeness, but to study and observe . . . as he so often did when he felt subdued.
           Cassidy sniffed harshly and her nose began to bleed at the same moment Grace glided in through her open door. Her baby blue dress was tied at the waist with a cream colored ribbon and her honey blonde hair was impeccably coiffed. 
           She smiled down at her and Cassidy returned it, though rather weakly. 
           "How are you feeling, Cass?"
           "Fine."
           "Only fine? Your father wants you to feel your very best before training again," she beamed cheerily, before humming quietly. Her navy blue heels tapped against the floor. Cassidy frowned.
           "My stomach hurts," she mumbled.
           "I know, sweety. It's lucky Five was there, otherwise someone could have gotten hurt."
           Shaking slightly, Cassidy exhaled."Five hurt me."
           Grace fixed her I.V. and replaced the bandage on her stomach then kissed her cheek. "Five was trying to protect . . . " She suddenly stopped speaking. Almost as if she'd realize what she was about to say, she changed the subject. "Are you hungry?"
           Ignoring her mother's strange behavior, she shook her head.
           "I'm not hungry."
           "Come now, your father wants —"
           "I don't care what he wants!" she spat. So sharp were the words that left her mouth that they didn't seem to even be her own.