Status: Whether you're religious or not, this story includes biblical quotes so don't get all sensitive. It's just a story.
The Seven: Origins
Zylia
{Zylia}
I had attempted to cling to my memories for as long as I could. But it was too difficult for a child so young, no matter what species I may or may not be.
It was illogical for me to try and fit in. So, I kept to myself. All of my life, it's been tricky avoiding people that antagonize me about my purple hair and blue eyes. I had a feeling I had inherited my unique appearance from my real mother. I only suspected this because I dreamt of a woman with rainbow hair, but I never remembered her face, to my frustration.
My mother, Andrea and my younger brother, Adam, were always good to me.
Adam's father, however, wanted me gone. Andrea would never let me go. She had adopted me when she was single, ready to be a mother. Then she had met Davis and they'd had Adam not too long after she had adopted me.
I could understand why he didn't like me if I were a troublemaker or a juvenile delinquent. But I made straight A's and had perfect attendance. I was the ideal student. Not only was I ideal at school, but at home, I did as I was told and cleaned up after myself.
I would then retreat to my room to stick my face in a book about medical care or laws. By the time I was eight, I could have become a doctor or lawyer or even a scientist if given the test. I was capable of fixing almost anything.
By the time I was ten, I could take apart anything and put it back together exactly as if was. It didn't matter if it was a remote control, a television, a radio, or even a whole car, not that I was given the opportunity to dissect a whole car.
But I did well with what I had. I liked puzzles and brain teasers. I read dictionaries for fun. It was no wonder I couldn't fit in. I was never meant to be a normal child that simply played.
I needed important tasks to complete in order to be happy. Chores weren't my ideal task but I did them so I could find something more difficult to do.
Something went wrong with my mom's car one day and Davis said he didn't know what it was and that they would take it to a mechanic friend of his. I decided to look under the hood, barely able to see.
She was in the house with Adam and Davis was at work. I got a stool and checked it out.
Twenty minutes later, I went inside, covered in black grease. I was filthy but very pleased.
"Zylia, what in the world were you doing?" She asked.
"I'm pretty sure I fixed the car." I answered.
She raised an eyebrow and we returned to the garage. She started the car and it ran with no problem. I sighed in relief and she laughed.
"I'll be damned. You did fix it. Come gimme a kiss, my little grease monkey." She laughed and hugged me.
"What's going on?" Davis walked up the driveway into the open garage.
"Tinkerbell here, fixed my car. Saves us some money." She smiled at me and brushed my hair back.
"Whose tools did you use?" He asked.
"She used mine." My mother frowned.
"Did you ask to touch that car? You think you're grown?" Davis yelled.
"Davis, don't raise your voice to MY daughter. It's my car and my tools and she's welcome to use them anytime. Zylia, go get a shower before dinner, honey."
I hesitated but then nodded and went to get a shower. That night, Davis was quiet.
After high school, I took some classes at the nearest community college and stuck around home. I loved reading and learning.
After college, when I was on my own, around twenty-five, my world changed.
I went to visit my mother and brother and when I walked in I heard her screaming. I ran up the stairs and found Davis standing over her. She had a busted lip. I threw myself at him and he got out of my grasp and punched me.
Suddenly his feet were off of the floor and he was being held by his throat. The most beautiful man I had ever seen was glaring up at Davis with cruel blue eyes. He knocked Davis out and looked at me.
His eyes softened and his spiky purple hair accented his beautiful smile and pale skin. His fangs retracted and my mother sighed.
"So it's finally time for her to know who she is and who she's destined to be." Mom whispered, unsurprised by his presence.
He held a hand out to me. I room it and received many images of what had to be us as children along with many others.
"Zachariah?" I asked.
He smiled and handed me an envelope. I took it with shaking hands, knowing it had to do with my real family and the purpose of my talents.
I had attempted to cling to my memories for as long as I could. But it was too difficult for a child so young, no matter what species I may or may not be.
It was illogical for me to try and fit in. So, I kept to myself. All of my life, it's been tricky avoiding people that antagonize me about my purple hair and blue eyes. I had a feeling I had inherited my unique appearance from my real mother. I only suspected this because I dreamt of a woman with rainbow hair, but I never remembered her face, to my frustration.
My mother, Andrea and my younger brother, Adam, were always good to me.
Adam's father, however, wanted me gone. Andrea would never let me go. She had adopted me when she was single, ready to be a mother. Then she had met Davis and they'd had Adam not too long after she had adopted me.
I could understand why he didn't like me if I were a troublemaker or a juvenile delinquent. But I made straight A's and had perfect attendance. I was the ideal student. Not only was I ideal at school, but at home, I did as I was told and cleaned up after myself.
I would then retreat to my room to stick my face in a book about medical care or laws. By the time I was eight, I could have become a doctor or lawyer or even a scientist if given the test. I was capable of fixing almost anything.
By the time I was ten, I could take apart anything and put it back together exactly as if was. It didn't matter if it was a remote control, a television, a radio, or even a whole car, not that I was given the opportunity to dissect a whole car.
But I did well with what I had. I liked puzzles and brain teasers. I read dictionaries for fun. It was no wonder I couldn't fit in. I was never meant to be a normal child that simply played.
I needed important tasks to complete in order to be happy. Chores weren't my ideal task but I did them so I could find something more difficult to do.
Something went wrong with my mom's car one day and Davis said he didn't know what it was and that they would take it to a mechanic friend of his. I decided to look under the hood, barely able to see.
She was in the house with Adam and Davis was at work. I got a stool and checked it out.
Twenty minutes later, I went inside, covered in black grease. I was filthy but very pleased.
"Zylia, what in the world were you doing?" She asked.
"I'm pretty sure I fixed the car." I answered.
She raised an eyebrow and we returned to the garage. She started the car and it ran with no problem. I sighed in relief and she laughed.
"I'll be damned. You did fix it. Come gimme a kiss, my little grease monkey." She laughed and hugged me.
"What's going on?" Davis walked up the driveway into the open garage.
"Tinkerbell here, fixed my car. Saves us some money." She smiled at me and brushed my hair back.
"Whose tools did you use?" He asked.
"She used mine." My mother frowned.
"Did you ask to touch that car? You think you're grown?" Davis yelled.
"Davis, don't raise your voice to MY daughter. It's my car and my tools and she's welcome to use them anytime. Zylia, go get a shower before dinner, honey."
I hesitated but then nodded and went to get a shower. That night, Davis was quiet.
After high school, I took some classes at the nearest community college and stuck around home. I loved reading and learning.
After college, when I was on my own, around twenty-five, my world changed.
I went to visit my mother and brother and when I walked in I heard her screaming. I ran up the stairs and found Davis standing over her. She had a busted lip. I threw myself at him and he got out of my grasp and punched me.
Suddenly his feet were off of the floor and he was being held by his throat. The most beautiful man I had ever seen was glaring up at Davis with cruel blue eyes. He knocked Davis out and looked at me.
His eyes softened and his spiky purple hair accented his beautiful smile and pale skin. His fangs retracted and my mother sighed.
"So it's finally time for her to know who she is and who she's destined to be." Mom whispered, unsurprised by his presence.
He held a hand out to me. I room it and received many images of what had to be us as children along with many others.
"Zachariah?" I asked.
He smiled and handed me an envelope. I took it with shaking hands, knowing it had to do with my real family and the purpose of my talents.