A Hunger Called Veyr

Morning light hits me like a train while I hear Lori’s voice shouting my name. At this point, it has become a normal part of my day to be shouted at.

“Seline Riven, come here before I come and rip your hair off and throw you onto the streets.”

Sighhhhhh... it’s not like here is better. She might as well just do well by her word and throw me out. At least then I won’t have to serve her like the broken girl she needs me to be...

When I came into the world, I was strong, with a fierce scream, and until I was around nine years old, it seemed I was enough. It’s funny how you learn the hardest lessons from the people closest to you.

I pass the kitchen, pass the living room, and then the hallway without looking at them. The hoodie and jeans tug me close and keep me in my bubble, where their words don’t reach and their hatred can’t slice through my soul.

I look forward and see the bus pulling away, leaving me behind, and I sigh again. How come I never thought to look at the time?

The wind and rain bite into my cheeks, already stained by tears that started falling God knows when.

I take out my phone and text my boyfriend.

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I missed my bus.”

“Sure.”

His messages seem to be getting shorter and shorter, and I assume it’s because of the plans we made. We’re going to move in together, and I’ll finally be far away from my parents.

And today is the day.

I found the apartment, and all we have to do is go sign for it.

Damn it! The cold still bites. I take my phone out again and order an Uber. Surprisingly, it arrives in less than two minutes, and in another five, I’m already at my boyfriend’s door.

I look through my purse, find the spare key he gave me a year ago, and let myself in.

And just as I do, I hear it from the kitchen.

The unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Moans.

Giggles.

Groans.

And I freeze.

“Why are you still answering that turd? I thought you broke up with her already.”

“Lyla.”

My boyfriend’s voice rings in my ears while his grunts and growls of pleasure hit my soul.

“She doesn’t mean anything more to me than my ticket to success. You know her parents are loaded. Her dad is the damn CEO of Riven Corporation.”

My heart skips.

One...

Two...

Three...

beats.

Then it starts ringing in my head. Then it fills my mouth with venom, which I force down my throat to muffle the sobs that are about to erupt.

“What are you going to do now? She’s going to come in five minutes, ten at most. Where should I go?”

“My rose, don’t worry. I’ll just tell her you’re my cousin. That stupid, ugly bitch can eat anything I throw at her and call it truth.”

I see red, and I go to them.

All my anger dulls into pain so sharp that it drowns my voice.

I see him.

The man I loved, in all his nakedness, deep inside her.

And I break.

All I can say is his name.

No... not say.

Ask.

“Reid?”

“What... what are you doing? I thought... I thought you...”

And he interrupts me before I can finish, before I can even get the words out.

“Love you? You thought I loved you? Of course you thought I loved you, silly girl. That’s because I do.”

“Seline, please, just forget this. It was a mistake. I got carried away, please!”

“It’s not what it looks like!”

My heart does some funny flips, wishing me to believe him, but I can’t.

Not after what I just heard.

So I leave.

I’m on my way home and my phone blows up, but I’m far too gone to care. It’s exhausting just hearing it, so I silence it and do what I do best: ignore the notifications while I book my tickets.

I look at the flights.

The earliest one is in three hours.

Perfect.

Just enough time for me to make it.

I check the security cameras and see that my parents left ten minutes ago. I decide not to walk. I order another Uber, rush through the doors, and pack a few clothes, my books, and the few electronics I own.

I search for my passport and documents, and I find an old photo of me and my parents from when I was around five years old.

The little girl with silver hair smiles back at me, so innocent, so oblivious to the torment the very people she loves so much in that photo will eventually put her through.

I smile through my sniffles and tell myself,

“C’mon, it’s time. The day never came. The day you were supposed to be happy. So take it. Look at it. Remember that there is a corner of the world where you will shine, where your light won’t matter because nobody will care to extinguish it.”

A bitter chuckle escapes me as I get into the same Uber I came with and ride to the airport.

Destination?

Alderwyn.

A little city my grandma used to tell me tales about. Tales about the unknown spirits that cross the forest near the city, where love is the most treasured thing.

I miss my grandma so much.

She was the only person who loved me when my parents didn’t. She used to tell me stories whenever she found me balled up beneath the covers crying, braiding my hair while she told them.

I always thought she was a little weird.

The stories she told me about this city, about its people, the way she spoke about love... none of it ever made sense to me.

Especially because, later, I found out that the city she’d told me so many stories about was actually real.

And boy, how real.

How beautiful.

The forest had the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The valleys, the houses, everything built to carry that same fairytale-like feeling.

After my grandma passed away, I knew that one day I would go there.

I get through security.

Damn belt has to come off, and my pants are about to fall.

I’ve always been built weird. Big ass and boobs, but at the same time, no pants fit me properly. They’re either too short or too long. If they’re tight enough, they’re too short. If they’re long enough, they’re too loose.

I’ve always felt like the stores in this city hate me and that there’s nothing made to fit me, so mostly I wear the one pair of black jeans that actually resembles something close to fitting well, plus a hoodie.

Well, I forgot the belt has to come off.

So God help me before I lose more of my shit than I already have.

I pass security.

Barely.

I make it through the gates, and while I wait to board, I smell the best cologne I’ve ever smelled.

It’s strong.

Woody.

Somehow sweet.

But when I look around, there’s no one.

And just like that, the smell is gone.

I board and check my bank account.

I feel so grateful that I had the sense to start putting aside all the money I received as a child, then everything I earned working as a teenager, along with everything my grandma left me when she died.

The account had been in her name, but she left instructions in her will that every cent she had was to be transferred into it after her death. The account would then be put under my name, and not a soul was to be told about it until I turned eighteen.

It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to open the one thing I’ve always dreamed of having.

A little café and coffee-to-go place where everyone can see a smile in the morning.

It’s also enough to buy a cottage at the edge of the city, right next to the forest.

It’s a beautiful old-style cottage. It looks a lot like the ones from the stories my grandma used to tell me, and I guess that’s why I signed up to buy it.

It made me feel so much closer to her.

I get so lost in my head that I don’t hear until the last moment that our seatbelts have to be fastened because we’re about to encounter turbulence.

I hiss when the plane starts shaking and the belt bites into my skin and hurts my bones.

But I’m also amused.

You’d think I’d be scared, but for whatever reason, I’ve always felt closer to death than to life.

Probably because I can’t remember how to live.

So I take solace in the thought that maybe today I die.

Today isn’t any different.

But something happens.

The plane shakes harder, and suddenly I feel like I can’t breathe.

My brain short-circuits.

I see a flight attendant coming toward me, then see her being pulled away by someone else who seems to be having an emergency.

And just as I’m about to accept that this is the day I die—from everything, because of a damn panic attack—I smell it again.

That cologne.

It’s soothing.

Addictive.

I turn toward my right and see a man.

Tall.

Built like a god.

Taking the seat next to me like the plane isn’t shaking as though it’s about to fall from the sky and kill us all.

Eyes as black as the darkest nights.

A short beard.

And good Lord, a smile that seems more for himself than for me, but still makes heat coil in my belly like a volcano.

Great. I’m about to die, and all I can do is get wet over a dude who seems to enjoy my torment.

“Are you alright, Snowflake?”

“Snowflake? Snow...!”

Asshole.

I’m about to rip his head off, but the smell hits me again, and I swallow my words before I’m able to utter even a sound.

He looks at me with an intensity that makes the hair rise along my spine.

He gets close to my ear and whispers,

“I can feel how wet you are right now, dirty little thing.”