The feather marked : the chosen series

For as long as I remember, my life has been the same. Every minute of every day planned out, nothing ever changes. The rules are for my protection, my wellbeing, for I have been honoured, blessed, I have been chosen. My childhood memories aren't those of which you would expect, I wasn't raised by a family with love and affection. There were no family days out, no family get togethers, no playmates, no normal childhood. I have been locked away in this prison I call home awaiting the day until I turn sixteen. So I can then step up and fulfil my destiny of which is of the highest honour. For I have been blessed, for I have been chosen. The sunlight streamed in through the small window. That was positioned that high. There was no hope of climbing out and just running, running that fast and quick. Towards the forest of trees that surrounded my “home”. Towards any chance of freedom. It was like clockwork. The sun came up and that beam of light always woke me from my dreams. Which for the last two years have no longer been haunted by the nightmares that had consumed me. It was due to the pressure of the prophecy that had been placed upon me, all because I was born with the mark. I was no longer plagued by these nightmares due to a visitor wrapped in shadows. He chased away the nightmares when he appeared. My mark was shaped like a feather. From my inner wrist down along my arm. The one thing that, even if I covered up, I knew was there. The one thing that made me special. Or so I've been told. Over and over again, until I believed it. But then again, I had nobody to tell me any different. Sitting up on the metal framed single bed, my back still ached from the springs that prodded through the worn down mattress. A quick glance around the room showed a mirror, sink, toilet, the bed I sat on, a lamp, a storage box with my “uniforms” and stairs which led to the main house through the trap door. Grabbing a clean uniform, I made my way up the stairs and towards the in-house staff showers. The house was quite like every other morning. The only other people awake were the cleaners and the chef. All preparing for the day ahead. After a quick shower, I combed my pale violet hair. I always found it a weird colour. It was the same colour as my eyes. I was yet to see anyone else with any colour close to mine. I brushed my teeth, and I was ready to start the day. I grabbed a slice of toast from the kitchen. I didn't bother talking to the members of staff. I gave up a long time ago when I used to plead with them to help me. That I didn't want to be special or chosen, I just wanted to be free. I was ignored every time. They never spoke to me, so eventually I just stopped. As I got older, I realized the only people who were allowed to speak to me were my tutors, trainers, and my parents, Monica and Dave. While eating my toast. I found myself drifting into my thoughts. Bringing myself back to my dream from last night and what my stranger had said to me. “It's nearly time, you'll be safe soon.” Usually, my dreams slip away and all I can remember is being visited by the stranger. But never had I remembered more details than that. Well, until last night. I found myself pondering those words. I knew the stranger was a figment of my imagination. I had somehow dreamed up to stop the nightmares. I was happy with seeing a stranger in my dreams. Even a made up person. It was better than those nightmares. But last night it felt so real. The sound of footsteps coming towards me broke me from my deep thoughts. I looked up to see Monica and Dave coming towards me with another person, a man. The man was wrinkled with age. His grey hair pushed to the side. To hide the obvious bald patch. If I were to guess his age, I'd say sixties. He held himself tall. He screamed importance. Now, considering I never met anyone new, this was extremely strange. “Ophelia follow us” were the only words that were spoken as they continued to walk past me down the hall. I rose quickly to follow, as I wanted to avoid dealing with the punishment for disobedience. After walking through the hallways for a couple of minutes, we arrived at the house study (a room I was not allowed in under any circumstance, or so I was told). I hesitated at the door, unsure whether to follow them into the room, as I was not to break the rules. Monica snapped at me to get in. After a brief introduction. I was informed I would be leaving my home as my sixteen birthday was in one week, and there were preparations to be made. At that moment, I couldn't tell you what came over me, and I spoke out of turn. Asking questions that I learned long ago not to do. “What preparations? What's going on? What happens when I turn 16?” They kept flowing from my lips, and I didn't know how to stop. To my surprise, it was the man who answered me, not my parents. " My child. you are chosen, you will be honoured. your soul will be carried to the greatest level, and you will be the last. For you will awaken our goddess and through her. You will continue to live”. It took me a moment, but I quickly realized I was to be sacrificed to the goddess. Boom, the house shook, followed by silence, and then the screaming started from down the hall. "Take her and run. we can't lose her now” Monica screamed at the man. He grabbed my arm and started pulling me towards the door. I started to run with him. Away from the shouting, and I found myself in all the crazy thinking. For an old man, his fitness is remarkable. Clearly, I had just gone insane with the bombshell of being sacrificed on my sixteenth birthday. And the fact that someone had clearly just blown up some part of the house. The screaming got further away as we progressed through the house, and I was taken outside through a doorway behind a bookshelf I never knew was there. After mere seconds of being outside. A man covered in black, head to toe, appeared out of nowhere. He literally aimed his gun and fired at the older man. Killing him right in front of me. I knew I was next, and at that moment, I thought, what does it matter now or next week. At the hands of this man, or a sacrifice to some crazy people's goddess? Either way, I was going to die. I put up my hands slowly in surrender, and I felt a gentle hum underneath my skin. I felt myself heating up, which is the only way I can explain it. I screamed as it started to feel as if I were burning. I felt a rush go through my hands. What appeared to be blue flames shot out, burning the man in front of me. At this moment, I had clearly lost my mind and I did the only rational thing I could, I ran. I ran toward the forest as fast and as quick as I could. I ran towards my freedom.