Sweat trickled down my forehead and arms as I ambled down the rocky path. It was near high noon and winter was officially upon us. However, the sun didn't seem to get the memo as it shined ferociousness down upon my light-toned body.

A week had passed since I first began working alongside Esther; the kitchen duties had only intensified as the days went on and within three days, I was promoted from potato peeling to deplucking deceased chickens. The task never failed to make me gag and miss the luxury of buying already processed chicken from a grocery store. I made the mistake of complaining about the nauseating task to Esther who only offered me an unpleasant stare before mumbling that if I didn't want to depluck them; then I would have to behead them.

Safe to say my lips were sealed after that comment...

The garden work wasn't effortless either, my hands often burned from the callous that littered them. Apparently, we were nearly done with the work in the garden as snow would appear within the week. I wanted to be relived for having my hands covered in dirt was growing on my nerves in a way I couldn't' describe. But the finishing harvesting only indicated that I was still a prisoner. A bird kept in a cage or whether a goldfish within a bowl of water; only dreaming about death for only when it consumes me will I be truly free.

Over a week...

I've survived nearly twelve days with these monsters. I scoffed at that thought for to be a monster you must have wits about you besides brawn. I have failed to meet all the members of this deranged family besides Aaron, Malachi, David, Esther, Asher, Joshua, and the nameless men to whom I saw on my fourth day here.

So perhaps it was premature to assume all of them were ignorant, yet I still found strange comfort in the wishful idea that I was cleverer than all of them combined.

It wasn't too ghastly to assume such thoughts for besides Esther, I hardly spoke to Malachi. Every morning when the sun would just begin to rise over the twining peaks, there big foot himself would come barging into my prison to sneak some form of food and clothes to me. He always seemed to be in a rush, but he would still try to engage me into a useless conversation. Perhaps afraid that if he did not draw me into a conversation, I would lose the ability to speak all together. The main three topics were, 'what are your hobbies?', 'what was your life like?', and his favorite, 'how are you feeling?'

It had nearly become my pleasure to simply lie underneath the bed, nibble on the food, and ignore him while mentally smiling at his foolish behavior. But every woman has her limits when it comes to dim-witted men and mine boiled over this morning when what felt like the millionth time Malachi probed me for information about my life.

As if fire had danced among my soul, I had sprung out from beneath my new-found safety net when those insufferable words slipped from his lips. I wasn't angry but rather peeved by his constant nagging, thus I barely found my footing when I spoke exasperatedly, "I'm a serial killer, I killed twenty-seven men in the last decade, why? Because they wouldn't stop asking me useless questions like you!"

I half-heartedly smirked as I expected his face to blanche and for him to go running for the hills. However, to my utter dismay, my eyes narrowed as he gained a smile of his own and before I could escape, he leaned forward while using the pad of his thumb to wipe away crumbs from the corner of my mouth in which I had gained while consuming a better than s-x blue-berry muffin.

The touch was soft, tender, and the effortless touch sent shivers down my spine while my skin was set ablaze by the warmth of his own. Any other woman would've blushed and perhaps even leaned into Malachi's touch, but I was not some other woman. I wasn't some spinless, weak, and childish woman who still believed in being swept off her feet by prince charming or knight in shining armor. No, I knew better than to believe in such useless and hopeless garbage.

My skin bristled at my body's betrayal, and I barely resisted the urge to bite the finger that was inching towards my lips. Vexation had cursed through my veins as I raised a hand and slapped his own hand away from my lips before quickly turning as I bounded across the bed to put as much distance between us as I could in the small shed.

Unsurprised by my reaction to his touch, Malachi only shook his head causing those beautiful golden locks of his to flutter gracefully along with the simple movement. He smiled and his eyes gleamed with childish joy. In that moment I felt like he was a puppy who had just been rewarded with great praise from his owner.

He wished me a good day and left quietly, it had been Esther who came and escorted me to my new daily chores. I tried not to think too much about the way his touch felt like heaven and hell at the same time. It made my stomach twist at the mere thought that I might have actually enjoyed it.

I nearly sang in delight as Esther instructed me to gather all the bedding from the cabin and to take them down to the stream to be washed. I was thrilled to have something and anything, to keep my mind from wondering to the events of this morning.

She had showed me to the upstairs of the cabin and by doing so, I became vaguely familiar with the symmetry of the cabin. It was larger than any cabin I had ever dared to wonder in before. Everything from the floors to the ceilings seemed to be crafted by their hands and even though the place was dull of any modern objects, it still lacked a sense of a blissful lure. I felt nothing as I had stumbled up the stairs. The air was dull and filled with the repulsive scent of brawny men who were in desperate need of baths.

Seemingly nose-blind to the scent, Esther had simply and quietly trudged up the stairs. She hadn't even bothered to pick up the hem of her grey wool dress that dragged dangerously under her feet, as she climbed the stairs and even I, the woman who desires death; nearly panicked when she gracefully began to ascend the stairs.

Despite my own hidden worry, Esther never even blinked a sign of concern and I ponder rather it was because she simply had grown accustomed to scaling the stairs in dresses. Or perhaps it was something darker and more twisted.

Maybe she simply didn't care if she tumbled to her death. Conceivably death was what she also desired...

Cursing lightly under my breath, I continued down the rocky path. I was cocooned by trees and even the cloudy winter sky was not permitted to shine through the canopy of thick tree branches above.

In my arms was a large woven twined basket that nearly took every ounce of strength I had to simply keep it above the ground. It was overflowing with bed linen, and it took even more will power to contain the bile that repeatedly arose within my throat at the awful stench that stung my nose.

Anger bristled me for I would rather be deplucking a predeceased chicken than being burdened with the task of washing these cavemen's laundry. But Esther had not given me much of a choice as she thrusted the basket and a bar of soap into my arms; before pointing down this path to the stream. She ordered me to wash the laundry before hanging them on the tree branches by the bank of the stream to dry. She remarked that I was not to return to the house until every piece of the laundry was as dry as the wind.

She must have either considered me far weaker then even I thought of myself, or someone was nearby, for she did not join me when I lumbered down the path. I was mentally glad for the much-needed aloneness, even though Esther was kind in her own way; the woman was a thorn in my side.

She was the rock in the path of my freedom...

My feet stung as I shuffled over the rocky path, Malachi had previously mentioned getting me shoes, but that day had yet to come and only proved my assumption of him being a liar.

Truth be told all men are liar's, they promise you the world yet won't even show you the door when they've had enough of you. They promise to love you forever, yet they allow death to consume their souls.

Tsking my tongue harshly I flicked my glaze forward and nearly shagged with relief at the slight of the light blue stream that laid only feet ahead. The trees thinned as my feet approached the muddy bank, my shoulders sagged as I dropped the basket by the water.

Rolling my shoulders back, I surveyed the stream as well as the small clearing I found myself in. Off to the left of me was a pile of large boulders that laid clustered together and each one seemed to be larger than the last. The pile seemed to stretch on for at least a mile, and I wondered just how did those boulders get there. Murmuring, I shook my head and searched off to the right of me, only feet ahead of where I stood, was another cluster of thick trees. I couldn't see though them and as my eyes danced over the stream, there was no muddy bank on the other side. The thick trees came only inches up to the stream.

Peering down the stream was impossible for both the thick trees and large boulders blocked my line of slight, if my desire to glance down the stream was stronger, I would've waded through the stream to the center. But the cold air nipping at the back of my neck was enough of a threat to chase away those thoughts.

Suspiring, I sank to my knees, and grounded my teeth as the cold mud seeped through the thick wool of the simple grey dress I wore. Breathing out angrily, I grabbed the first piece of linen and dropped it into the misty clear water. The sleeves of my dress became damp with the streams water, and I nearly bit off the tip of my tongue to suppress the never-ending anger within me.

You won't achieve anything by being angry.

The little voice in the back of my head whispered, I hated that voice. It was the voice of wisdom, but I hated wisdom for wisdom rarely agrees with anger and oh how I loved anger.

Anger is the only voice I listen to these days...

Growling softly underneath my breath, I gripped the small bar of soap and roughly began to rub it all over the linen. Silently hoping the bar's scent of honey and mint would overtake the scent of bear-like smell the linen currently housed.

For nearly an hour, I scrubbed every speck of dirt and grim off the linens. I scrubbed until my hands were as red as a tomato and were nearly raw. Blowing a piece of my hair away from my face, I hurled the last damp blanket over a sturdy tree branch and gruffly sighed in relief.

Staring barbarously at the blanket, I shuffled back towards the blank to retrieve the basket that thankfully was now empty. I mentally cursed this family for not having a washing machine like a normal family. My body was not made nor in any state to be doing such tedious labor. Yet I refused to yield, to give in to this task. I refused to show them that this was too much for me. Even as my previous wounds moaned in pain, I refused to even bend to the weight of the task.

"And her eyes shined a shimmering green as if the very God himself placed emeralds in the place of her eyes..."

A voice as hollow as the surrounding trees and as soft as the feathers of a dove; flowed upon the wind and engulfed me in a dance of mixed emotions.

Gasping loudly, I dropped the basket and spun with the wind towards the cluster of boulders. A top one of the higher boulders sat a boy who appeared barely even sixteen summers and held a soft yet feline smile that quietly dared me to offer one of my own.

His hair was a filled with different shades of brown, some lighter than others. Like the other men on this ghastly farm, his hair was long and currently pulled back into a tight bun that rested on the back of his head.

Gritting my teeth to resist the urge to bare them at the young boy, the only thing I offered him was a frown, a glare, and a curse spoken angrily under my breath.

"Some manners you have scaring a woman half to death." I all but snarled at him.

His age be damned, if he was close enough my reflexes just might have sent my fists flying into the glasses that sat top his nose. Anybody with a brain should have enough wits about them to know to never sneak up on a person who spent half of their life fighting to simply have the freedom to breath in the foster system.

The slits of his eyes narrowed slightly before slowly widening as if he were studying me, "I would apologize but then I'd be a liar for I feel no ounce of regret for simply appearing in the same place as you."

Unlike Esther who was like a bird and spoke softly, unlike Malachi who was gruff and bashful, unlike Asher who was flirtatious and eerily amused, unlike Joshua who was bullheaded and beefy like a bear. Unlike them all this boy appeared smart, more intelligent than I would like to admit.

His body was relaxed and unperturbed by my presence. A small square notebook rested in the palm of his hand while a pen in the other.

"Who are you," It wasn't a question and I'd barely spoken the first words before I brassy continued, "Are you a member of that idiotic family?" Perhaps it was a stupid question to ask him, but at this point I was far to swept away with anger to care about his own emotions.

Smirking amusedly, the boy shook his head, "Yeah, I'm apart of this idiotic family."

If my words angered him, they were deeply hidden behind his amusement and boyish features.

My eyes narrowed and I slowly took a step back while dropping the basket to the ground, I wasn't stupid, his age be damned; he could still harm me if he wished to.

Even kill me if his heart desired too...

He observed me like a falcon would a hawk and continued to smirk as if I was his greatest amusement, "I'm Elijah by the way."

Unlike the other men I have seen, Elijah was not clad in plaid thick shirts, woolen shirts, or thick coats. He wore a simple thin tan shirt that was lose, held a V-neck that was loosely laced together with a thick white string, and fell loosely to the tops of his thighs. It reminded me of a tunic a high fae would wear in a chick-flick fantasy novel.

I nearly smirked at that thought but like the wind, I shook it off before I had much time to even remember it.

"You know who I am." I practically shouted to him as I reached down to retrieve the fallen basket. As I bent down, I eyed the boulders and took note of how the sun shined down upon them heavily. Most were rigged on the tops but some, every few, hosted smooth and flat tops that called my body to rest upon them.

"Yes, you're quite the hot topic over dinner, lunch, and breakfast."

Ignoring him, I silently looked over my shoulder towards the path that led me towards the stream. As if on cue, Esther's words circled around in my mind, and I craved to disobey her order. To run down that path and be damned what she would do to me. But the only thing running would gain me would be the loss of their trust. Since the silent vow of escaping this place, I've done everything I could to do, to gain Esther's trust and fondness. If she dropped a spoon, I picked it up for her. If she had sweat on her forehead, I dabbed It away with the sleeve of my dress. And if she appeared tried, I insisted she rest, while I did our chores.

I felt no better then a fox in a hen house, but I refused to die or live here. Whatever may happen to my empty life, it will by my hands and not these fool's hands.

But to be fox, I must be sly, tricky and above all else adaptable. If I wish to remain alive or at least in one piece, I need to play by their rules; not my own.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I turned swiftly towards Elijah whose eyes barely swept over my body before returning his focus to the journal.

"May I join you?" The words sounded sweet, nearly innocent; yet they tasted like acid and pure betrayal of my emotions.

I wanted to show him and the rest of this preposterous family a vulgar gesture, but that would get me nowhere. No, they wanted me to obey, be silent, and play along to whatever game they've been playing.

And play I shall do...

His eyes sliced upward again and lingered on the innocent smile I plastered over my dry lips.

Yes, see me, see the innocent and weak woman you all want me to be.

He jerked his chin toward the boulder below the one he sat atop; I suppose that was the only answer I was going to get for his focus shifted back towards the journal.

Gently placing the basket near the path, I swayed over towards the boulders and instead of masking my pain as I have done for so long, with every step I took I flinched and sighed loudly. My face tightened as my ribs shifted and groaned as I moved.

I'd barely made it to the boulder before Elijah was climbing down from his boulder to help me up them.

Offering his hand out to me, I smiled and gently took it, "Well aren't you just a peach."

His skin against mine felt like fire that burned and scarred me. I wanted to scream as I felt the anger within me turn against my very own soul. I felt nearly like a wh-re, it felt wrong to be touched by him as if he were the devil himself and I were an angel; he was going pluck every white feather from my wings and I felt it in my bones.

Fighting against every fiber that taunted me to hurt him, to do anything to remove his hands from my body, I ignored and offered him a smile; one that mirrored the ones Ruth always offered me.

Strangling the wrath within me, I forced out painful whimpers as his hand tightened around mine and roughly jerked me up onto the boulder. The movement was quick and as my bare feet contacted the smooth surface of the boulder, I stumbled forward. My body fell into his lean and stiff chest, I gasped, and his back straightened at the contact.

He was at least a foot taller than me and as my eyes shot up to meet his, they were overflowing with shock and surprise. But before any of us could speak, he briskly shoved away from me and hurled himself back up onto the boulder he previously sat upon.

If he enjoyed or distained the way-our bodies slammed into one another he neither spoke nor showed any emotions. He simply grabbed his journal and propped himself up against another boulder.

Fiddling with my fingers, I glanced around the stream again wondering if anymore of his brothers were somewhere hidden in the brushes or trees. But all that looked back at me was a peaceful flowing stream, songful birds, and an eerily silence that seemed to stretch on for miles.

I stood awkwardly on the boulder for minutes waiting for some kind of invitation from Elijah to sit, but minutes passed and as the soft wind ruffled through lose strands of his hair; he didn't even look at me.

Blowing out a deep breath that puffed out my hollow cheeks, I shuffled down into a cross-legged position while continuing to fiddle with my figures as if they were the most interesting things I've ever seen.

As the soft wind kissed my skin, I couldn't take the silence anymore and mumbled, "Do you come here often?"

Silence.

So, I tried again, "How old are you?"

Silence.

Picking at a sharp edge of one of my fingernails, I pressed on for I had at least another hour before I could return to my cage and therefore if he refused to speak, then I would speak simply to the wind.

"So, what's it like to be a teenage these days? I assume the physical things have changed. The style of clothes, music, etc."

My eyes swept up to him, and I frowned as he didn't even blink at my words as he continued to write in that dainty journal of his. Curiosity was blooming inside of me, and I resisted the urge to storm up there and discover what form of ink stained the pages.

Trust, I was trying to gain his trust, not break it before I even possessed it.

"But the emotions are probably the same," Poking the bear, that's what I was doing, seeing just where his weak spots laid, "I'm sure you feel like no one understands you, like the whole world judges you if you simply say the wrong thing, and talking to girls must seem like the end of the world."

His eyes briefly studied me before returning to that damned journal of his. But my words were working, the fly was being lured towards the web.

"Everyone tells you what to do, say, and how to act. They act as if you don't have a brain and are simply a dog without a collar." I nearly smirked as his eyes locked onto mine, "You must feel like you're drowning inside, like the very walls of your mind are collapsing onto your soul and all you can do it pretend you're fine. It's a battle to simply allow breath in and out..."

When my lips sealed shut, I wondered if I was still luring Elijah into the web of my plan or if I was simply expressing what it felt like for me to live these days. What it was like to live without my soulmate and child. Without the aunt who loved me as if I were her own daughter.

It felt as if they were still alive and I, were the one who died...as If I was nothing more than a ghost.