Tears of Pearls

[Fractured Princess]

Chapter One

Alex tiptoed down the empty hall. Clinton would still be asleep, so he didn’t need to worry about his father yelling at him, which was an exceptionally good thing. Treading carefully and edging his way along the boards as close to the wall as possible, so as not to disturb the creaky floorboards in the centre of the narrow hall.
Alex had walked the hall many times and had spent a few hours everyday, when he was younger, studying the loose boards and plotting out where they creaked and where it was safe to sneak past undetected.
He snuck out a lot during his life. Clinton, his father, was an arse hole, and never let him go anywhere, but that was mainly because he could never be bothered going with him. That meant that Alex spent a lot of time inside, alone. He supposed he did always have Missy, but she was a tart who slept with his father to make up for her rent. When he thought about it, Alex didn’t like her all that much anymore. She had been with him for some years now and she, when she could be bothered, took him down the street with her on the odd occasion. But that was all he needed. Every time they had left the house, Alex made a mental note about which street lead to where and what the safe areas to go were and where he should stay clear of come night fall.

The hall had changed a lot over the years. Once upon a time it had been a brilliant shade of blue with paintings and portraits lining the walls. But now the paint had dulled and chipped. It now looked more grey then blue, and had a fair number of stains and blotches covering it as proof of the drunken brawls and cat fights that occurred in his house fairly often now days. This was usually because his father couldn’t get laid, or that one of his girls had spent the night with another client. Sometimes the girls would scratch at each other, fighting over things like underwear, or who slept with whom that night. Alex never asked friends over, he was too embarrassed. As soon as they were to walk in the door they’d get a good view of porn posters covering the walls. Even Alex’s’ room was filled with dirty pictures of naked women taking part in vulgar activities. Clinton had ordered Alex to pin up posters around his room. Apparently it would help him in some way, but he didn’t see how looking at naked women could improve his physical or mental skills except for making him think that women were disgusting. How could they partake in such things? It was, in his opinion, gut churning and down right unnatural.

As he did every night, Alex found himself quietly pushing open the front door and sneaking down the front steps. He walked slowly down the quiet street. It was only quiet because it was so late, had it been any earlier he would more than likely have been hit over the head with a lead pole and bashed, mugged and more than likely murdered.
It was cold out; Alex shoved his hands deep into his pockets for warmth. Being the middle of winter, he could see his misty breath blowing from his mouth as he walked towards the main street. It had snowed earlier that day; there were still traces of clear cement on the pavement though.
Why did he have to sneak out all the time? He was fourteen and was restless, he needed to get out and do something, like any normal teenaged boy would do. He contemplated joining a sports team, but he didn’t know how to play any sports, and Clinton would never let him go out on his own, which meant that he wouldn’t go out at all because there was no one willing to walk with him anywhere. And that’s how it went in his house, he didn’t even really know how to read and write properly yet. Ebony had taught him a lot, or at least as much as she could in her spare time. Ebony had a dad who loved and cared for her, so she was much luckier than him. Her father was a teacher at her school. She was very bright for her age, but both her father and her role model, Jade Lestrange, were the two smartest individuals in the world. Professor Lestrange was also a teacher at her school. Alex wished he was allowed to attend school, but Clinton wouldn’t allow it.
Alex strolled along thinking to himself how much he wished he had a normal life with a father that loved him back. It was true; Alex loved his father, but never understood why. There was a time when he would tell his father how much he loved him, but Clinton would only push Alex away and ignore the fact that he even had a son. It hurt to remember.

Soon, Alex was walking once more in no particular direction, completely lost to his thoughts as the cold crisp early morning air nipped at his bones, sending chills up and down Alex’s spine. But Alex didn’t notice, he was too busy imagining now, what it would be like to live with a big family, many friends in a huge house together, full of love and care.
Someone once loved him. He remembered at least that much. The picture of Kezza still sat on his bedside table, along with another photo of a woman he would never remember. Kezza was his babysitter when he was younger, only four. She had left when Clinton struck her down for refusing him, he hadn’t met with her since, and it broke his heart now to know that his own father had drove her away for such a reason when he loved her so much. The other woman he was also very close to. He could no longer remember her name, or how he had met her, all he knew was that she had promised to stay, but had broken her promise for some reason of which she would never tell him. He had felt a strong connection with her, but it was long broken and he had moved on. It was no more than a lost memory, like most of his childhood was to him now.
Alex was thrown from his little reverie when he heard a voice behind him. It was coming from the shadows.

“Hello Alex.” It said. “Do you remember me?” It was male, but not familiar.

“How can I tell when you’re standing in the dark? One would think your question a pretty stupid one.” Alex responded flatly, a hint of fear in his voice. If this was a mugger, or worse, someone he was tied to by his father, this wasn’t going to be good. Alex wasn’t very strong and wouldn’t be able to hold his own in a fight against many older than him. His father called him weak, but that wasn’t his fault. Clinton never had the time to tech him self-defence, like he’d promised years before, and the girls were no good.

Stepping out from the shadows, Alex could see the features of the man clearly, but he was still unfamiliar to him.
“I’m Yo-Wen.” The man stood tall, taller than Alex. If this man attacked him, there would be nothing he could do but run. His muscles were visible even under his semi-baggy Nirvana shirt.

Alex gulped, as he looked the man over. Tall, muscly, dark looking; yep, a guy he clearly didn’t want to mess with. He contemplated turning and running in the other direction now, but he found that he was unable to move, frozen, like a deer caught in headlights. “I have no idea who you are, so could you please leave me be. I really don’t want any trouble… If that’s what you’re bringing that is.” He stuttered. Alex couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was sure to be hit now, he could see it in the mans eyes, they were a maroon colour, yet, at the same time they were blood red, or maybe they were black. Alex wasn’t sure on his eye colour, it seemed to change and swirl with every passing second. But it was always a red or near black colour.

“You don’t want trouble Alex? Well I don’t bring it, if you co-operate.” If he co-operates? What did that mean? What was he going to do, he wondered? Alex felt his throat cease up and it was hard for him to breath. What was happening? He didn’t understand. Who was this, Yo-Wen? What did he want with Alex? Alex didn’t know him… that he knew of.

“And what do you want if not trouble?” His voice was shaky, filled with fear and confusion.

“Your power Alex. That is all. I need to “borrow” your power for a while.” A smirk spread across his dark face as he stared into Alex’s terror filled eyes. There was something evil about this guy, but what? Alex didn’t know. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Power? What power? Alex didn’t have any power. He couldn’t even bath his dog without hurting himself. He wasn’t strong or anything. But what other power could he mean?

“My p-power?” He stuttered helplessly. “What power? I have none to give.”

“Oh yes you do. I know who you are. You are linked to someone close to me, and have inherited. I can feel it, smell it and taste it on the air around you. You’re humming with it; you just don’t know it, yet. But I don’t think you ever will I’m afraid. Now come here. I need it.” Yo-Wen said before walking towards Alex with an outstretched hand. A strong wind kicked up and Alex could barely keep his footing. What could he do? He felt so afraid and alone, like never before. Some strange wacko was trying to hurt him, maybe even kill him and he could do nothing.

He felt a hand on his forehead, and a searing pain in his heart, like an important part of him was being torn from his body. He let out a loud cry of pain as the tension around his heart increased. What could he do? Suddenly, as if he had stolen a secret strength, he threw Yo-Wen off with a toss of his hand and fell to the hard tar road with a crack. He felt blood oozing down the back of his neck, but it didn’t matter, he’d heal soon.

“Argh! You little brat.” Yo-Wen yelled as his hand began healing itself. Had Alex done that? Yo-Wens hand was cover with severe burns, but was healing rapidly. “How did you learn to use them? I will have them for my own. Now hold still!”

He got to his feet again and made his way towards Alex once more, hand raised towards Alex. Alex scrambled to his feet and began to run; he didn’t know where he was going. Home was in the other direction, but Yo-Wen had it blocked off, so he ran the other way.

“No! Get back here!” Yo-Wen yelled to Alex.

Alex turned to see where Yo-Wen was, but couldn’t see him anywhere. Turning only in time to hit something hard and fall backwards once more with a thud, spraining his wrist and yelping with pain. “Going somewhere?” Yo-Wen asked sneering down at Alex. His look chilled Alex’s blood and sent shivers down his spine. How had he overtaken Alex? He hadn’t seen him do so.

Yo-Wen bent over Alex and raised him a few feet above the ground by his throat. Alex couldn’t breath. Was this it? Was he going to die? He thought silently to himself of how much he wished he’d done and what he would do if only someone were to spare him. Yo-Wen raised his fist and sent it crashing down towards Alex’s face with a spine chilling crack as Alex was knocked unconscious, his jaw and nose broken; if he didn’t heal quickly it would have been beyond repair.
The last thing Alex heard was a woman’s voice and then the sickening crack as Alex felt his nose and jaw break.

[Fractured Princess]

Chapter Two

Alex’s eyes fluttered open and he found himself lying in his bed. Had it all been a dream? He thought to himself. Yes, maybe it was. But when he went to sit up, he realised that it had been no dream. He ached all over, from head to toe. Cuts and massive bruises still covered his face, arms and upper body. He could feel the grazes on his back and legs and tried to move them as least as possible.

Even blooded up and bruised it still wasn’t hard to tell whom Alex belonged to. His hair was dark brown, almost black, much like Clintons. But unlike Clinton, Alex had lighter streaks through his hair, but they were barely noticeable.
Alex’s eyes were green, like his fathers, but swirled with aquamarine. His skin was a gorgeous golden colour and he was tall for his age, already he was as tall as Clinton, if not taller. And under his left eye, much to Clintons’ disgrace, sat a small chocolate brown coloured mole, which he had no idea where it came from, but he was born with it.

Alex never understood why his father hated the way he looked. He was quite proud to be the way he was, but it seemed to annoy Clinton, like it was a constant reminder of something he loathed above all else, but Alex didn’t know what.
Clinton only seemed to like Alex’s looks when girls turned up on the door step looking for him, that was when Clinton seemed almost proud of his son, but that soon passed when Alex just flipped them off and sent them away without a word.

Alex raised his head, but it hurt. He was just able to move enough to look around at his surroundings. Staring at the room he was in, he finally realised, this wasn’t his bed at all. This wasn’t his room. It was filled with white. White walls, white bedding, white couch and even a white television and CD/DVD surround sound stereo system. Whose room was this? Where was he?

Alex paused in mid thought when the door flung open and a small albino girl walked in holding a white china bowl of what looked remotely like a steaming soup and a spoon in her hands. She sat it on the bedside table next to him and smiled.

“Hey Alex. How are you? You okay now?” She asked politely. How did so many people know his name? Jesus Christ. He didn’t even know these people, how did they know him well enough to know his name? Or maybe they were just stalkers. Yeah. That had to be it. Because he was sure he’d never met them in his life.

“P-pardon?” He asked. “I’m fine, I guess. But, where…” He looked around the white room once more and continued on. “Where am I?” He asked, sure now, that this was her room, judging by the clothes she wore. She wore a long floor length dress, which was white. She also wore white shoes that became visible only when she walked. Her hair was such a light blond it neared white. The only other colours on her entire form were her lips, which shone with a light very feminine pink, and her eyes that were a beautiful pale blue. She seemed to almost glow, not just with beauty, but quite literally. When he thought about it, the whole room seemed to glow the very same way.

“Oh. Sorry. You’re in my room.” She answered again with the same well-trained politeness. It seemed to come naturally somehow.

“Yes. I figured that. But, who are you and where is it that your room is? Whose house? What house?”

“Sorry, again. I’m Aphrodite, but you can call me Af. And you are in the house of Jah. But truly, it isn’t a house, but a realm. You are in heaven, love.” Heaven? What? Why was he in heaven? Had he really died last night?

“Heaven? Why am I in…” He began.

“It’s okay, you’re not dead.” Af said reassuringly, taking note of the panicked look on Alex’s face. “I brought you here so you would be safe. I saved you from Yo-Wen. It’s alright.” She placed a warm hand on his shoulder and he felt suddenly calm. Falling back onto the pillow, he felt sleep grip him and he heard Af’s calm voice speaking to him as he drifted. “You can ask your questions later. For now, sleep.”

He was walking down a long road, possibly near the country. There were trees on all sides and he could hear a revving noise approaching him. Turning quickly he just saw the car wiz past in a rush, scaring him into a near by bush as he stumbled. Where was he?
Alex looked across the road and caught a glimpse of a black lion staring him down. His breathing intensified and his stomach knotted itself harshly. A lion? A real lion? But why… How? Had it been a mountain lion, he may have understood, but no, it wasn’t a mountain lion, it was the type you’d see in Africa. But it was black, and not a panther, that much was sure.
The lion gave a deep guttural growl and continued on, running back to the thicker trees.
“That was weird.” Alex told himself. “Now, where am I?” He asked no one in particular.

“You’re home.” Alex jumped from the bush and spun around only to face a tall golden haired girl. She seemed somewhat familiar, but how?

“Alex! I missed you!” She cried, wrapping her arms tight around Alex’s neck and squeezing. “I missed you so much! Mum’s been expecting you. So I came to find you.” Suddenly, her hair darkened slightly, the lighter streaks, however, remaining the same. The hair shortened, the girl grew taller and her clothes changed. Her same aquamarine eyes shone happily in the dancing light.

“Alex. I’m glad you’re back. I was wondering when you’d finally return.” Her smile was warm and her burgundy lips shone like her eyes. It was almost hypnotising. There was one thing Alex couldn’t help noticing. A small chocolate brown mole sat delicately under her left eye.

Alex gasped. Was this? Yes, but who was she? He couldn’t remember her name; it was lost to him, but why? It had been so long now since he’d last seen her, and she was different, her hair was shorter, and slightly darker, but it was still her nonetheless.

“Are you okay, love?” She asked. “You look pale. Come. We’ll go home now.” She carefully took hold of his hand. He remembered that touch. Soft, delicate, warm, loving, he never wanted to let go. She smiled down at him and he couldn’t help smiling back. This was how he remembered it, the way things used to be. He would spend time with her, laugh with her, and throw things at old people with her. He loved her still.

The trees turned to black liquid looking walls. They closed in around him, suffocating him. The touch was gone; he looked for his hand holding hers, but found it empty. Tears built up in the backs of his eyes. Where? Why? A voice spoke, a mans voice, it was familiar. It was Yo-Wen. “Do you remember?” The floor collapsed and he fell. It seemed forever until he finally stopped falling and his eyes snapped open.

Cold sweat ran down his face as Alex sat up. He was on the ground, the blankets had cocooned themselves around him and he found he could barely breath. He pulled himself free of the blankets and stood up straight. His wounds had healed; small bruises still remained, but little more than that.
Upon hearing the loud thud of Alex hitting the floor, Missy came rushing into the room.

“Oh! Alex, baby, are you okay?” She asked, not sounding too concerned.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.” He looked over at her, realising she’d rampaged into his room, not only without knocking, but also without any clothing on besides a pathetic excuse for a pink thong. “Can you get out and put some clothes on Missy. I really don’t want to see that.” He announced, turning his head away and shielding his eyes.

“Oh, sorry sugar. I’ll be back, shall I?” She asked smirking devilishly I hopes that Alex had finally taken a liking to her and her body like Clinton had always hoped he would too.

“No!” He said, a little more fear in his voice than he had initially hoped. “I mean, no. That won’t be necessary.” He corrected, steadying his voice a little.
“Oh. Okay sugar. If you say so.” She sulked as she turned and jogged back to Clinton’s room. Alex watched with a horrified expression as her flabby arse cheeks bounced up and down with every step. He shuddered and turned away.

Alex walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the broken cupboard and filled it with orange juice. That would have to do for breakfast, as he was too sick to the stomach from what he’d just seen to eat just yet. Had Alex been dreaming this time? He didn’t understand. Heaven? No, that one was a dream for sure; he knew it. Pfft, Heaven, yeah right. What a laugh. Like he was really in Heaven. Alex laughed at himself for even thinking for one second that he’d actually been in Heaven. Yo-Wen? Was that a dream? He looked down at his arms. No, it didn’t seem that way. He still had bruises. But maybe he’d gotten them somewhere else. Maybe he did something while he was asleep and then dreamt it. Well it could happen. His blankets wrapped themselves around him and in his dream he thought the walls have closed in. Maybe it was like when he fell out of bed and he fell in his dream. Yeah, that was it; it was the only explanation as to how he got the marks. But it had seemed so real.

There was a gurgling coming from the doorway as Clinton came in scratching himself. He was naked, again. Alex turned away from his naked father and stared down at his already half empty glass. This was very common in his house. People would often walk around naked without shame. Alex, it seemed, was the only one with any form of decency in the house. Missy would even walk down the main street wearing belts. Okay, so he was over exaggerating a little, they were actually a very short mini skirt that showed off a lot of arse cheek, and a skimpy whore-like boob tube that barely covered what it needed to. Yes, they did look like belts to many other people, but to her it was very appropriate dress.

“Alex! Get me my cereal would ‘ya.” Clinton mumbled, still groping his crotch. It was times like this when Alex missed Kezza. She had decency, just like him. She taught him to have decency. Kezza was the one that made him how he was. She had left when he was four, so he had done the best he could to be like her in hopes that she’d show up again, of coarse, once he’d reached the age of ten, he finally realised that no matter what he did, she’d never come back. He missed her, he loved her, but it changed nothing. One day he would find her again, he promised himself.

Had Kezza been here, she would have made Clinton wear clothing, she wouldn’t let the others wander around naked and she’d take Alex with her where ever she went.

“Alex! My cereal! Now!” Alex ringed as his father yelled at him, again. Nodding, he stood and went to the cupboard as Clinton took his seat.

“Dad. We need a new cupboard, this one’s really messed up.” He felt Clinton glaring at his back. He turned and his suspicions were true. Clinton was giving him the death stare, again. He did that a lot. Alex, however, still wasn’t used to being treated like a slave, but was used to being yelled at and beat like one.

“If you don’t like it then why don’t you do something about it? Eh? I don’t see you paying for anything around here! Maybe I should make you pay for your own food! Then what would you do?” Clinton looked at Alex for a second before continuing. “Actually, I might do that! From now on Alex, you can buy your own food! See how long you last! When you realise how much money we actually don’t have and begin to respect what little we do have maybe I’ll start to feed you again!” With that, Clinton snatched the fruit loops box from Alex’s hands, poured himself a bowl and began eating them raw. He would normally eat them with milk, but he had smelt the milk yesterday and it was off, so he just ate them as is.

“But, dad, I don’t have any money.” Alex replied.

“Good, neither do I.” Clinton continued to eat.

“But, I have nothing.” He said once more. He was ignored. What else was new? Alex wouldn’t have cared about Clinton’s threat, had he not been serious. Clinton never joked around unless it was with one of his girls during a flirting session or foreplay.
Alex turned and left the room, throwing the cereal at the cluttered table while Clinton gave him yet another death stare. He turned down the hall and ran to his room. Slamming the door shut, Alex would have thrown himself down on the bed to sulk, but it was already occupied.
A short slender near white haired blonde sat staring at him, her blue eyes shining in the glow of the windows light. Her skin was glowing and it was then that he recognised her.

“Aphrodite?” He asked sounding very shocked.

“Yes? I understand that this is a very big shock for you Alex, being brought up how you have. But I am real, and you were in Heaven last night. Like I said, I rescued you from Yo-Wen. Are you okay now?” Alex was confused and a little scared. It must have showed on his face, because Aph gave him a strange look and simply laughed.
“It’s alright Alex. I won’t hurt you. And before you even think it, no, I am not one of your dads girls hired to steal away your virginity. Okay? So you’re safe, for now.”

He liked that idea, to be safe. And he wanted so much to believe it, but he couldn’t, not living where he did. Not anymore. He was when he was only young, his father never bothered with him. But now, now, his father saw him, noticed him, and wanted so much for him to become the third generation of Moffits to follow in their fathers’ footsteps. And that meant that Alex had to be girl obsessed, and he had to lose his virginity, and soon. But he wasn’t going to. He hated it when his father ordered him and set him up with girls, hookers. He just wanted to die when he was forced to hold their hands, and he was beaten when he refused them or turned them down.

“I just want you to be happy, like me.” Clinton would say, but Alex knew Clinton wasn’t happy, and never would be. He was a very lonely man, and he would die lonely as his punishment for all he had done. Realising that his thoughts had trailed off again, Alex remembered that he was still yet to answer Aph.

“Sorry. I’m fine. I didn’t mean to wander, it’s just that-”

“Yes. I understand. Don’t worry. I know what’s troubling you, and you have my sympathies. I also know about what your father had you do, and what happened the other week. But before you try to cut me off, don’t worry, I won’t tell, I promise. Cross my heart.”

She speaks a lot. Was all he could think, he didn’t want to remember his fathers’ weekly event, where he would be payed for Alex. Alex felt a shiver go down his spine and his heart sank into his stomach when he remembered that today was Wednesday, that meant Clintons’ ‘colleagues’ would be payed tomorrow and would be wanting to spend their money, as they did every week. Then it hit him. This wasn’t the event of the other week that she spoke of, was it?

“What do you mean, you know what happened to me the other week? I’m lost?” Alex’s defences were raised higher. If this was what she meant, how did she know?

“Don’t worry, if you don’t want to acknowledge that I know that’s fine, I understand. And I have to leave now Alex. But remember, if you need me, just call for me, I’ll hear you. And don’t forget, I’m always watching over you and I’ll help you through both the good, and the bad times, I promise.”
Planting a light kiss on Alex’s forehead, Af vanished.
Alex glanced at his overly graffittied mirror and sighed. He flopped down onto his bed and began to read over the writing that had been made permanent there with paint and other such materials. The Less-Stress mirror, as he called it, was what he used to release some of his stress when he felt another suicide attempt approaching.
He read for a while, about twenty minutes, before falling into a deep sleep, which was unusual for Alex, as he was often a very light sleeper.

“Alex! Alex, God, are you all right? Alex? Speak to me.” He was lying on the floor with a splitting headache. What had just happened? There were people calling his name, asking if he was all right, what was happening? Alex opened his eyes, the world swam, he attempted to sit up, but found that gravity was to strong for his weakened and light headed state. The floor was soft and cushiony. He was quite comfortable where he was, but he couldn’t stay there, he had to figure out what was going on here. Making another attempt to sit up, this time he managed. His eyes cleared and his vision returned, he could finally explore his surroundings, with his eyes at least, he may have been sitting up, but he wasn’t ready to tackle standing just yet.

“Alex! You’re okay? Oh, God, I thought you were in a coma.” It was the girl again. Her hair was streaked and her lips permanently stain red. Her aquamarine eyes met with his and she seemed suddenly familiar. Almost like they had once been close, good friends maybe, but he couldn’t recall ever seeing her in his life before now.

“Yes, I’m fine. Who are you? What happened?” He quizzed. The dizziness subsided and he was no longer swaying, but the ache in his brain was still colossal. Maybe, seeing as though his vision had returned to its fullest extent and he was no longer light headed and dizzy, he could try standing. Anyway, if he fell, she seemed the type who would catch him. Leaning forward and carefully placing his hands on either side of his body, he was able to push himself into a squatting position. Maybe he could stand without falling, but his head begged to differ. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his skull, his vision was again blurred and the world began revolving without him. Just as he was about to give up and lay back down, a warm hand caught him by the arm and he was helped to his feet. Once he was there it wasn’t so bad. His head was no longer going crazy and everything was how it should be, except for the fact that he had no idea where he was or who this stranger who knew him was.

Suddenly, the door came crashing to the ground with such immense force that it splintered across the floor. Alex jumped and the girl screamed as all went black. He could hear her screaming, and suddenly felt very protective over her, as if a natural instinct had been triggered. He reached for her, groping through the thick blackness for her hand, but found nothing. Her screams continued to echo through the dark; he tried so hard to reach her. Stepping forward, he felt something brush against his foot. Something was moving around down there and it sent chills up and down his spine. He had to reach her or something horrible would happen, he knew it in his heart. There was a bright flash of light, followed by a thud, and the screams stopped.

[Fractured Princess]

Chapter Three

The room was silent. The only noise to be heard was his heavy breathing and the beat of his racing heart. The creature that was at his feet had vanished and he felt an unavoidable sinking feeling in his stomach. Something had happened to her, and it wasn’t for the better of things. Alex got down on all fours and began searching the floor for her body. If she were indeed okay, he would find her feet, if not…
His fingertips brushed against cold flesh. He trailed them across her face and over her lips. They were stone cold. He twisted his fingers through her golden locks and knew it was her. He poked at her forearm and prodded her stomach; she didn’t make a move. It was then he knew she was gone. Tears began to prick the backs of his eyes and he felt something warm trickle down his cheeks and fall to the ground. Why was he crying? He didn’t even know this girl, but now he was mourning her death? He couldn’t explain it, he just felt a sudden bond with her, like her aquamarine eyes, they were his, and the mole.

He was falling again. But this pit had an end. He felt the sudden chill run through his body as his lungs filled painfully with water. Once he had stopped plunging deeper into the black limitless obis, he struggled to swim towards the surface. It seemed like forever, and his lungs were aching with the held breath and the pressure of the water threatening that if he were to take another breath, his lungs would again be filled with the cold stinging fluid. The water was salty, that indicated the ocean or a river running from it. Unable to hold it any longer, he gasped again, but no air filled his lungs, just the traitorous liquid. He wondered if he’d ever reach the surface, or would he die there? He thought of the girl that he let die because he hadn’t found her in time to save her. He thought of his father and all the hookers he had tried to make Alex love. Then he thought of his lost mother, and he felt his throat seise up with the painful thought. His mother hadn’t wanted him when he was born, so she had left him with his father. Clinton had brought this up every time Alex had suggested that he find her. He closed his eyes and stopped swimming. His thoughts trailed off as he thought about all that his father had put through during the past eight years of his life. All the beatings he had endured from him, all the cursing and name-calling, all the times his father had wanted and urged him to lose his virginity so he could follow in his and his grandfathers footsteps, all the times his fathers ‘friends’ had shown up for their weekly ‘work-out’ that Alex was made endure. He didn’t want to live anymore; he just wanted to die. He was here, there was no one in the world that cared about him besides Af, and there was no point to living anymore. He had an abusive father, a mother who didn’t care for him or even acknowledge his existence, no friends, some crazed lunatic after him wanting to kill him for his ‘powers’ and a long line of street girls after him. What a lovely life I lead, he thought. This was it.

He let the breath he was holding go and took a big gulp of water. His lungs burned as they filled once again with the salty water. Again, two, three lung fulls of water. He felt dizzy and exhausted. Just as he blacked out he felt something grab him and pull at his arm, maybe he would be dragged deeper and torn apart, that way no one would find him and no one would notice his death.

He opened his eyes and stared up at a familiar face. It was his father, but how? He looked around and he saw the familiar surroundings of his room.

“Alex. You stopped breathing. Are you okay?” Clinton asked with more worry in his voice than Alex had ever heard in his life. Maybe Clinton was worried about his investments rather than Alex himself. But he didn’t know, all he knew is that Clinton was worried about him and it felt good to know that his father cared about him enough to feel that way.

“I’m fine.” He said pushing his father away by his chest. “What time is it? How long was I asleep?” Alex asked staring around the room for his alarm clock, but remembering that his father had nicked it to make sure his girls showed up on time. One of the only things he had managed to save up money he found lying around for and his father stole it on him, how typical.

“You were out for at least five hours, that I knew of. Perhaps more, it depends on how long you were in your room before you actually fell asleep. I came in to see if you wanted to go for a walk with Missy, but you were asleep, that’s as much as I know.” Clinton stood and walked to the door. “Get dressed nicely. We’re going to the movies.” Clinton said turning and walking away again.

“What? Why? Since when do we have the money to go to the movies? Don’t you usually spend it all on your little ‘girls’ as soon as the money comes in?” Clinton turned to Alex and glared harshly and Alex feared he would be struck soon, but no, the hit wasn’t made and Alex was still standing.

“Listen you little prick! I just received a massive check from your mother, so if you want I can leave you at home!” Alex’s eyes widened at the mention of his mother. He had to ask, even though he knew Clinton would snap at him, he had to ask the question.

“My mother? Is she back?”

“Oh shut-up Alex. She doesn’t care about you so just shut your mouth about it okay? She’s just paying for the child support the she owes.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. It hurt to know that his own mother, the very woman that gave birth to him, hated him and spat at his very existence. Alex turned away, hiding his weak tears from his father. If his father saw that he was crying, he’d never hear the end of it, not to mention he’d be labelled a failure. Alex knew that Clinton cried, when he’s in bed, alone, at night. Alex heard him crying on his way to the front door on several occasions. But it was only when he was alone, or rather, thought he was alone. Alex still seen crying as a weakness, and so, thought himself very weak.

“So are you gunna get dressed or what? We’re leaving in five minutes. So if you are planning on joining us, you’d better hurry, ‘cause we’re not waiting.” With a slight huff, Clinton stood and walked from the room.
Looking at his father in full, Alex noticed the new clothes Clinton wore. His shirt was clean and had a brand. Clinton was wearing a Billabong shirt. His jeans were the same, Billabong brand, and clean. They were new Etnie joggers too.

“Oh. I almost forgot.”

Alex watched as Clinton exited the room. What had he forgotten? He didn’t say. Maybe he was talking to Missy. But after a minute, Clinton re-entered the room, a bundle of material in hand, and a box.

“Here brat, put them on. Save you the trouble of finding yourself some clean clothes seeing as you take forever.” He left again.

That wasn’t true. He took less time then Clinton and Missy put together. Unfolding the material his father had handed him, Alex found a black shirt with the logo ‘Bad Boy’ written across it and on the back was the typical kid with white hair flipping someone off. The jeans were also black with the logo ‘Rusty’ written down the side of the left leg in white cursive writing. Alex had to smile. He had spent all his life wishing he had enough money to buy decent brands of clothing. All the ‘cool’ clothing he owned, he had grown out of years ago.
Turning now to the box, he new what it contained. Sliding the lid off, a red pair of ‘Slazenger’ shoes were revealed.

“Thanks mum.” Alex whispered to no one in particular. After all, it was his mother that had supplied his father with the money to buy the clothes.

After dressing, Alex stood and was about to leave and find his father when a voice called from the hall. “Alex! The taxi’s here! If you’re coming with us your father says you gotta get your arse moving baby!”
Damn he hated Missy. And he wished that she’d stop calling him things like ‘baby’ and ‘sugar’ and ‘gorgeous’ ‘sexy’ or ‘sweetie’. It made him sick.

“I’m on my way fat-ass!” He called back. Missy just gave a giggle and walked through the front door. Walking down the hall, Alex sniggered. Missy actually thought he was joking when he called her ‘fat-ass’ or ‘Shamu’.

~*~*~

Sliding into the taxi, Alex felt a rush of excitement as the cab turned a left and headed for the cinema.

“So what are we going to see?” He couldn’t help asking, the experience was overwhelming. He was really going to the movies.

“Missy wants to see ‘Miss Congeniality 2’ so we’re going to see that.”

That’s all? Oh well. It’s a movie and they would be seeing it on the big screen. While he continued to smile his thoughts continued fly, and he couldn’t help thinking that he’d done this before, with someone else. But, he couldn’t remember ever going to the cinema before in his life. But why did he have this feeling?

The car drove for a good twenty minutes before the bright lights of the city came into view and Alex found himself standing in front of the ‘High-Lights Movie Theatre’.
Entering the cinema, Clinton went to the front counter to retrieve the tickets while Missy and Alex raided the concessions stand. Once again, Alex was feeling de je vu and found himself fighting the urge to point to what he wanted and then point to the lady at the counter and say ‘and you’.

“Hmm… Now that’s gotta be the weirdest urge I’ve ever received.” He said aloud.
Missy looked to him and raised an overly plucked eyebrow.
“What is?” She questioned, clearly confused by Alexs’ statement. What could he expect, she was a blonde.

“Oh. Just now, I received the urge to point to what I wanted and then point to the lady at the counter and say ‘and you’. But I have no idea where it came from.”

“Uh- Okay.” Missy said, turning back to the lady, who was also giving Alex a funny look, and handing over the money for her purchase.

Missy and Alex met up with Clinton at the entry gate and entered the movie theatre together. One lady had even commented on how wonderful it was to see a family together. The comment had made Clinton snort, but Alex just smile and thanked her. Missy made no effort to reply and just continued on into the theatre to get a good seat.

~*~*~

The movie had ended and Alex had returned home alone. Clinton and Missy had stayed to watch what ever the late night movie was and stated that they would be staying at a hotel for the night. Clinton and Missy had returned laughing and giggling around lunchtime the next day. It was obvious what they’d gotten up to during their second movie. Alex wasn’t sure what they had seen, but it was a late, which meant that there wouldn’t be many people in the theatre, maybe none at all.

Clinton pushed open the door to Alexs’ bedroom and shook him awake. Opening a sleepy cat-like eye, Alex groaned and rolled over onto his side, facing away from Clinton.
“Hey prick. Get up and do something. It’s one in the arvo dip-shit.”

Alex rolled over and looked up at Clinton, his eyes still slightly glazed from sleep. Clinton tugged on his blankets and flipped them back so Alex lay, exposed to the remotely cooler air, still clad in the clothes he wore the previous night, shoes and all.

“You need to get out of the room anyway. No piss-off.”

Alex was too tired to question his father so he stood and walked to the door, rubbing his eyes as he went and hoping he didn’t run into anything. But nothing so much as even brushed his foot.

Turning from his doorway and into the hall, Alex paused in mid step as he glanced at the newly plastered walls. Where were all the porn posters? Where were all the battle scars? The hallway was completely clean. Alex ran down the strange hall. He had to escape from this cleanliness. He turned into the lounge room and gasped. It too was clean. When he looked around, he noticed the kitchen in the other room, clean. In fact, the whole house had been renovated and smelled freshly of baby powder. Wait a minute. Why baby powder? He didn’t understand it, but it was obviously happening. But he still pinched himself on the arm, just to be sure. “Ouch!” Yep, it was happening. He walked back to his room holding his arm and flopped down on the bed, face first.

“Can you please leave? I need to adapt.” Came a muffled Alex voice from the messy, unmade bed covers.

“Whatever. But make it quick. The renovators will be in here after they’ve finished with the bathroom.” When Alex looked up with disgust, Clinton was already gone. All this time he’d wished for the house to be clean and to look like Kezzas house did, but now it was here, and he’d grown up with the mess, become used to it and forgotten Kezza and her house, he just wanted his old mess back.
Alex slid from the bed and crawled to the door, closing it. Pulling his feet back to his small, puffy sanctuary, he lay down in the twisted mass of blankets and buried his head in the covers. Thoughts of his past dreams flew through his head like lightening. Who were all the strangers that seemed to know him so well? What did the dreams mean anyway?

It wasn’t all that long when Alex was torn from his reverie by a sharp rapping on his door. With a sigh Alex dragged himself from his bed to answer the door. He knew what awaited him on the other side, renovators.

“Yeah! What do you want?” He wasn’t exactly in the mood to listen to these guys and he didn’t want to be disturbed while he was thinking. He just wanted to sleep, but he did want the scenery in his room to change. He was sick of seeing naked girls every day.

“We’re here to renovate-”

“I know why you’re here. I just don’t care. But come in anyway.” He pushed the door wide open to welcome the renovators. Finally, his room would be how he wanted. He sat back as he watched them do their work, directing them in a certain direction every now and then.
It wasn’t to long before his father entered the room and told the workers to leave for the day.

“Alex, you’ll have to sleep on the couch tonight.” Clinton grabbed Alex by the arm and dragged him from the room. “Come on. Get out. I don’t want you in here until your room’s fixed up. Okay?” Alex ignored his father and let himself be dragged from the room. “Answer me you little prick!”
Clinton planted a firm hand across Alex’s face, sending him crashing to the ground. Here we go again, another fight.

It hadn’t been more than a few minutes when Alex was thrown to the ground and knocked unconscious. Clinton stared down at his son sprawled across the tiled floor. Blood slowly oozed from his wounds of being pushed into the newly repaired glass cabinet, knocking it to the ground and sending shards of glass scattering across room. He smiled, this meant Alex would be out of his way for at least an hour, and with the workers gone he was free to do what he wished. Reaching for the phone, Clinton dialled “Flash: 1” his favourite.

When Alex awoke it was pitch black. How long had he been unconscious? More than a few hours, that was for sure. He pushed the light on his watch; it read 12:58am. Damn, he was out for a while, wasn’t he?
He heard a familiar noise echoing down the hall and with a sigh he pulled himself off the floor and onto the couch. His cuts and bruises still hurt badly, some still oozed and bled. They had to be cleaned quickly before they became infected. By all rights they should have needed stitching, now, but he couldn’t be bothered and he knew his father would make a huge deal out of it. He’d let it be, for now, but if it got worse he’d have to do something about it.

The noises coming from down the hall were getting louder. Alex had to escape this torture. He was used to it, that was true, but he still hated it beyond all else. He couldn’t sneak out yet; his father would come to the kitchen for a drink before returning for more, then, eventually, sleep will follow. Only when Clinton and, probably Missy, were asleep, could Alex leave the house with no other worries.

Alex lay on the lounge, wondering how long it would take for the pair to settle tonight. No where over twenty more minutes…he hoped. The noise coming from the end room continued to grow.
Eventually it slowed and stopped.

Alex lay in calm silence and sighed. He had waited ten minutes after the two had finished before he thought it safe enough to set foot out of the lounge room itself.

Tip edging along the side of the hall, Alex made for the front door, as he always did.
The front door silently opened as he leapt down the front steps once more. He had to find a new routine; he was getting too good at this one. He thought with an inward smile as he made off down the once more quiet street. Remnants of yesterdays snow still remained, now slightly muddy though, due to being grinded into the foot path by heavy and busy feet.
Alex, looking left to right wearily, pressed onwards towards the local park, where he was sure to find a doped up kid or two.

He let his feet take him, not actually paying attention to his steps, but focusing more on the night before-hand, when he was attacked. Suddenly, leaving the house seemed like a very bad idea, but he couldn’t turn back now.

As he stepped up the curb to the park, Alex noticed a figure lying sprawled across one of the benches. He approached slowly and the figure stirred and rose suddenly.

Alex jumped back, barely dodging the knife that was slashed at his stomach. The figure on the bench was a man. With his eyes still closed tightly, he swung the knife aimlessly through the air, stabbing and slashing in every which direction but making no real impact. Realising this, with a lunge towards Alex, he cried “Don’t touch my stuff!” and fell into Alex, knocking him to the ground and winding him, bringing a firm hand down into the ground.
Alex opened his eyes to find the man that had attacked him unconscious across his chest. Lifting him, he realised that he couldn’t move. As he looked to his left shoulder, he found that he was pinned to the ground by the knife that was swung at him. It had pierced his shirt and stuck him firmly to the ground.
Pulling hard on the knife, Alex managed to loosen it and remove it from its earthly sheath. Once he was free, Alex managed to lift the heavy body from his own and rolled the man over to check he was still breathing.

Alex listened for air being drawn into and released from the mans lungs, but heard only a small gurgle as he shifted once more. His eyes fluttered open and Alex moved away once more, in case this person had another knife or other form of implement that would bring Ouch Town upon him.

“Hey. What are you doing here boy? This is my bench! Find your own. Jesus Christ. Times have changed that a guy can be pulled from his own bench while sleeping and have a theft performed under his own nose.”
The rambling continued as Alex cocked one eyebrow and stared around as if asking and hoping for some stranger to save him.

“Uh huh, o… Kay. Well… I gotta go now. So- Sorry about your bench. But I wasn’t trying to steal it, I have a home and I can hear it calling me, okay? Okay.” Alex stood and turned to w away when he felt a hand grab his wrist and drag him back towards the cold, moist earth.

“Hi. I’m Bikku. Sorry for the misunderstanding. Kays? I’m a bit defensive of my benches.” The fore mentioned Bikku held out a grubby hand for Alex to take.

“Hey. Alex.” He spoke quietly as if afraid, but took Bikku's hand nonetheless. “Uh, pleased to meet you, Bikku.”

“Yeh, same.” Bikku shook Alex's hand rather enthusiastically and Alex feared he would soon lose his arm if it continued much longer.

After attempting to leave numerous times, Bikku had managed to keep Alex in conversation long enough for him to learn that Bikku had been living on the streets for three years now because his mother and father had split up and his mother kicked him out on the streets. Bikku was a bum, and this un-nerved Alex, having heard stories and seen movies where hobos had attacked people viciously with broken bottles and such. Alex, after hearing Bikkus’ life story and promised Bikku that he’d be back tomorrow, was finally able to leave and head home.

As he walked down the street towards home, he felt as though he was being watched. But when he turned to see if someone was following him, he found no one. A cold shiver ran down his spine as the thought of Yo-Wen crossed his mind, closely followed by Aphrodite and what she had said about keeping him safe.
“Aphrodite.” He whispered silently before he heard a clatter behind him.

Alex spun around to find Bikku sprawled across the pavement surrounded by garbage cans. Was Bikku following him? A sudden fear spreading across his body, Alex turned and ran, not wanting to know the reason behind Bikku's strange behaviour.

Alex ran the rest of the way home and jumped the steps to his house before pushing the door silently open and creeping back to his room, not needing to worry about the creaking floor boards anymore, as they had been mended during the renovating that he had slept through and not known was taking place.

Kicking off his shoes, Alex remembered that he had been told to sleep on the couch. He turned and walked into the living room. Wishing he’d left his shoes on, Alex fell to the ground due to the pain spreading through his feet and now hands and knees.
He had forgotten that he had been thrown into the glass cabinet and that glass still littered the floor. Tears filled his eyes as he reached for the kitchen light. Flipping the switch, he stood and tip-toed to the kitchen table that was less than a room away.
Sitting on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, Alex began to pick the glass from his hands, knees and feet.

After he was sure he had removed every shard of glass from his new wounds and wrapped them securely with fresh bandages from the medicine cabinet, Alex set to clean up the mess with the broom. He would just sweep it as close to the wall as he could until morning, then he would dispose of it.
He was too tired to fully clear away the glass, so he left it and went to lay on the lounge.

It wasn’t long before sleep engulfed him. It was a relief when no vision came, just black, undreaming, unfaltering sleep.

[Fractured Princess]

Chapter Four

Alex awoke with aches and pains all over his body. He give his watch a sideward glance, it read 8:45pm. Wincing as he sat upright on the very uncomfortable couch, he searched the room, for what he was looking, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he wanted to find it. Catching a glimpse of the reflection of a man in the remains of the glass, Alex realized what he was trying to find, or rather, hoping not to.
The eyes were unmistakable, cold and piercing. It was only for a second, but that image glued itself to his mind and he was no longer safe in his own home. Even with Aphrodite’s protection, he feared, Yo-Wen would find him.
Rising from the couch, Alex headed for his room. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to go there, he just felt compelled to do so. Hobbling painfully as he went, he reached out for his door handle, but he didn’t find it. He was caught by the shoulder and turned heavily to face his father, who held his shoulder still, in a bone crushing tightness. A smile spread across Clintons’ face and, though Alex could not hear his words for they seemed so distant, he new the words well. “Pay Day.”

As tears began to stream down Alex’s face, Clinton dragged him to his own bedroom where, inside, Clinton’s ‘Colleagues’ anticipated Alex’s arrival. He hadn’t realized it before, while distracted by Yo-Wen’s sudden appearance in his lounge room, that it was Thursday, or as his father puts it, Pay Day.
Upon entering Clinton’s room, Alex was greeted by twisted smiles and sniggers, and some words in Spanish that he couldn’t understand yet, but Ebony was slowly teaching him. Though she didn’t know why he was so desperate to learn.

“Here you go fellas. Now where’s my half?” Clinton said, tossing Alex slightly as he fell forwards onto the stained brown carpet. Obviously the renovators hadn’t been here yet.
Men around the room held up two fifty-dollar bills each as Clinton collected his five-hundred and exited, leaving Alex to the crazed looking faces and claw-like hands that reached for him separately.

The room had been dimmed by one closest to the door and Alex could barely see across the room. His vision was constantly blurred by monstrous faces and hooked fingers as his clothes were torn from his body.
Tears lined Alexs’ face as he felt the nails scrape across his bare skin and tare at his chest as the mass of monsters crawled over him again and again, hurting him, enjoying him. Alex hated his father, he would never forgive him. But there was somewhere inside him that couldn’t help but make it seem a dream, and Alex would believe it, until Thursday return.

Clinton listened intently as the screams of his only son, only child, echoed again and again from the room as each man had his way with him. He felt no remorse, only longing, longing for more money, more consumers to have his son so he could become rich.
Thoughts of starting a business ran through his mind. He could gather Missy’s friends and with Alex, he could become rich, like Hugh Hefner rich. He could start his own Play Boy mansion, but a miniature.
Clinton walked away, thoughts of his very own mansion fresh in his mind. He would seek out Missy and run the idea by her, see if her friends are interested, Alex would have no say in it, as is with everything Clinton makes him do. Then, if all goes well, Clinton would work on saving money to make the house bigger… Or he could just use the remaining money Alex’s mother had given and pass it to the renovators while they were still working.
Things were coming along better then Clinton had planned.

Feeling the wait lift from his back, Alex still dared not open his eyes until he heard the sound of Clinton’s door open and close once again, indicating the Spaniards had moved on to the hall.

Standing gingerly, Alex reached for his clothes and reapplied them as best he could in their current state. He would have to send them to Ebony again. She never could understand how Alex could ruin so many pairs of clothing each week. He told he participated in a few dangerous sports and she asked no more. She wasn’t very interested in sports and only learnt what she must about them to pass her subjects.

Walking meekly to his room once more, he could feel the same compelling that had dragged him there before. Pushing his door gently, Alex entered his room, cheeks still stained by tears.
Flopping down on his bed, he felt it was warm, but how? He sat up again and looked down at the warm patch of blanket. It was as if someone had been sitting there, as the warmth only resided in a small area.

“Are you okay Alex?” The soft voice of a dove whispered through his ears. Turning in the direction of the voice, he found who he knew the voice to belong to. Aphrodite.

“Aph-ro… Dite?” Alex questioned, trying hard to remember her name, his mind fogging from his recent experience.

Aphrodite ran to Alex’s side and put her hand to his forehead.
“Oh Alex. I wish had have gotten here sooner. Maybe I could have- Oh I wish I had have known.”
Feeling a sudden rush of guilt, Aphrodite stood Alex and began to undress him as carefully as possible, removing his clothing piece by piece until he was left standing in his satin skull boxers.

“Ow.” Alex winced as his shirt was removed, sliding slightly across his newly opened cuts. Upon seeing the thick strips of skin that were etched across Alex’s chest, obviously by human fingernails, Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she pulled Alex into a sorrowful hug; trying as hard as she could to avoid the scrapes.

“Alex. Oh I’m so sorry. Please, Jah, forgive me. I never meant-”

“Please, Aph. Don’t apologize.” Alex stared hazily into Aphrodite’s baby blue, almost childish, eyes with the utmost sincerity. “There is nothing you could have done and God knows you are lucky to have missed the ordeal. So please, just drop the subject and leave it be. If you knew, as you said you did, then this should be no surprise for you.”

Nodding once, Aphrodite looked away and walked to Alex’s cupboard. Opening the doors, Alex was amazed to find a whole new wardrobe. “I hope it’s to your liking.” Aphrodite said whilst picking out the clothes she obviously thought best for Alex to wear. Thin black fabric pants with flames of multiple blue rising from the ankles and a plane black shirt were handed to Alex and he was helped to put them on.
Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Alex seemed happy with his new clothing, or at least, the clothing he had seen. It seemed that there was a whole wardrobe awaiting his slim, but muscular figure.

“It’s late. You should get some rest.” Aphrodite said, leading Alex towards his bed. His room had been fixed, but oddly enough, it was exactly how he wanted it, and more. But he never told them. Realizing this now, Alex turned to look at Aphrodite.
“I know what you are thinking Alex. I did, before you ask. I fixed your room myself and told the renovators they could let it be. As you can see, I gave you that bed of mine you seemed to like. Well, you seemed comfortable and peaceful while you slept there, and I can always create another. I will be back to explain the ins and outs of your in the morning. But until then, sleep.”
With a kiss on the forehead, Alex’s cuts, gashes and bruises seemed to fade away as Aphrodite bid him goodnight and turned to walk towards a large human-sized oval mirror with twisting silver vines encircling and framing its length.

“Oh and Alex,” She spoke once more, looking back over her shoulder. “No sneaking out tonight. I’ll know if you do. And, Bikku, too, will be waiting. He’s been expecting you all day. Nite-nite love.” Blowing a kiss to Alex, he felt his heart light up for the first time since Kezza left. He felt as if he had a mother. Like Aphrodite was filling the position that Alex always felt Kezza filled, and then she was gone. He hoped the same wouldn’t happen to Aphrodite, and that she would stay and care for him, as she was now.
Aphrodite continued towards the mirror before it lit up and she stepped through, disappearing into its depths. Not bothering to think on it, Alex let what she had just done slip from his mind as he realized just how tired and heavy his eyelids had become.
Unable to keep them open any longer, Alex allowed his eyes to fall shut, and sleep claimed him. Gentle and calm, his breathing leveled out and he was lost to the land of pleasant dreams.

~*~*~

Aphrodite smiled as she watched Alex fall deeply into sleep. She knew, even with her plea, that Alex would still sneak out, so she allowed him to fall asleep with her mind. Hoping he dreamed of good times, Aphrodite turned away from her alabaster basin and seemed to float back to her new four-poster bed.

Laying herself down gently, Aphrodite’s thoughts trailed from Alex and his fathers selling of his son’s body, and focused more on the girl that had come to her in hysterics the other day.
“Oh Yasmin, what am I going to do with you now?” She spoke through a sigh as her eyes closed and the memories of yesterday flashed through her mind.

[Fractured Princess]

And this is what I have so far. Yes I have been working on this for a good few years and have only managed to produce a few chapeters. Well sorry if there are any spelling mistakes or gramatical errors. As I said, this is rather old and I haven't edited it. So there are MANY errors that I have found. Please correct any errors you find please. This needs SERIOUS editing as when I wrote this I wasn't too educated in writing. Please forgive. And if you see at any point the wors "Af" correct that too as it should be "Aph" and "Afrodite" is supposed to be spelt "Aphrodite" so those are bad. Please correct.

[Sin Co.]

S: Yay! This story! Jade'll read through it again and critique it for you!
C: Still good though.

[YahNe]

I, He, She, etc are pronouns - they start a new sentence (Damn I hate that rule)
You keep writing 'breath' instead of 'breathe'.

And that's about it I think. I dunno... I didn't really pay a lot of attention to mistakes and I was only reading.

[Shadowed Writer]

Brill. B. Brill. love!
You said your writing's improved since then darl? I'd love to see it!

[Fractured Princess]

Eh, I just realised how much I actually HATE this story :S ... I don't even know if I want to continue it anymores... I mean... It's riddled with mistakes and crap like that cause of my Ra-be-damned grama at the time it was written. And also I just don't know where I'm going with it. I have a full chapter with Yo-Wen's P.O.V that I haven't posted but I still don't like it. It sounded good to me in my head, but reading over it now I just... Don't like it. Perhaps I should just stop this story and start a completely different one. One that appeals more to me now as this one has lost all of it's own. If you all wish to know how the story ends and stuff like that then ask-- Cause I doubt I will finish said story-- So publishing's out the window.

Thank you all. Isn't realisation just "Brill B. Brill" Sorry Rhea but I've been saying it >.<;; Ja!

[YahNe]

LMAO I doubt she cares you've been saying it

Well, it's your choice. No point in bugging you about it, ne?

[Fractured Princess]

Yeah well... I don't get enveloped in it anymore. It doesn't pull me in and take control to write itself anymore... So it's just not the same. But yeah as I said... If you want to know how it ends and what happens yada, yada... Yeah just ask.