Torn in Two by Ryanne Hawk Page B

Ollie, who nestled on a high beam in a dark corner during the day. Sheena was my Heron, and she’d pop in and out a few times per week. A mutt of a dog, whom I’d affectionately named Lumpy and reminded me of a blood hound and a beagle, usually could be found laying in the hay. Then there were the assorted squirrels, mice, rabbits, goats, and even a snake. I was rather afraid of the snake, but he or she had yet to bite me.
    As I made my way across the wheat field, I tried not to think. Just placed one foot in front of the other and kept moving. Knowing what I needed to do, but with every step, hating my father more and more for taking everything away from me I cared for.
    I could smell the cedar drifting on the air, and a sense of home called to me. I always found peace out here, and sometimes I’d spend hours talking to the animals, tending to them, mending their wounds. They helped keep me sane and made me use my powers on a daily basis. Occasionally, Gram showed up and taught me new things. Her strawberry blonde hair shone in the sun, and her aura soothed even the roughest of my days. She always smelled like honeysuckle. I missed her. I’d never met my father’s mother, and according to both Gram and my mom, I was better off.
    I started to get angry again as I marched closer to the barn. He wouldn’t let me have my pets. He’d either kill, drain, or scare them. Most would run from the cloying dark aura he wore; others would cower in fear and not be able to move. A few might fight, and then he would kill them. My hands fisted and I nearly started to run, but I didn’t want to trip.
    About fifty yards from my sanctuary, I heard a screech followed by a terrible cry. My heart started to pound as a thick, black ooze leached from the ground and wrapped me up then forced my feet to stop. All my animals barked, hooted, screeched, and cried out. A tear ran down my cheek. I’d never make it in time.
    My father was already here.
    I remained rooted, unable to save my friends as fear and rage flowed through me, but I deflated under the weight, knowing he was stronger than me, and that I’d falter. Pressure built inside, a storming tsunami of hate. He locked me here to witness his destruction. To prove his point. To hurt me.
    Dead silence rang across the field and permeated my skull, popping the bubble encasing my brain, and then my limbs were free and I crumbled to the ground with a deep tremble. The barn door slid open, and my father stepped out, a spring to his step and a devilish smile to his lips. I watched from lowered lashes as he strolled to me and stopped a few feet away. Then I stared at the ground, afraid to lift my head and see the happy bloat to his skin or the glint in his cruel eyes.
    “I appreciate your thoughtful gift, daughter. Thank you ever so much for the snack.”
    I tried so hard to bite my tongue, to take his words in and allow them to flit out the other side without a reaction. I squeezed my nails into my palms and yet my mouth said, “They were my friends.” My voice trembled. “They never hurt anyone.” I raised to my knees, still looking at the ground, and stared at the small blades of grass weaving in and out of the wheat. I focused on their color.
    “What did you say to me?”
    My head lifted, and I stood up then raised my face to meet him. “I said, they were my friends, and you had no right to harm them.”
    He shook his dark hair out of his mouth and laughed as he stepped closer to me. His aura made me want to choke. He said, “Right? I have every right and more than that. I’m bigger and mightier than they are. Do you think a lion asks to eat? The answer is no, little girl. The predators always take. And nice way to treat your friends,” he moved just a hint closer and whispered, “you should have thought about that sooner. You can’t hide from me. I always get what’s mine.”
    His breath stank like rotten cheese, and his clothes reeked of used kitty litter and smoke.
    “Why did