Memoirs of Arathyne

[Lilium]

WARNING: NOT FOR ANYONE WHO CANNOT DEAL WITH CHILD ABUSE, MURDER, LANGUAGE, AND/OR PICTURES RELATING TO THE SUBJECT. HOWEVER, IF YOU WISH TO UNDERSTAND ARATHYNE TO THE FULLEST, YOU MUST SUCK IT UP AND READ.

My second oldest, [url=Arathyne, is a problem child, definitely. These annals of hers (annals means history for the simple-minded folks) will no doubt be an exciting and shocking tale (for all) to read and (for me) to record. She starts off as a cold-hearted green Xweetok who yearns to be the Battledome Champion and hates other people.

Let us watch the roleplays and stories unlock the many new passageways for her to walk down; the many new choices, simple and tough for her to make; the many ways her personality changes; and the many, many dark secrets that are unveiled.

TITLE: MEMOIRS OF ARATHYNE
COMMENTS: Open. Keep them to a minimum and only about Arathyne.

[Lilium]

On a cold winter morning in Neopia Central, December 17 to be exact, snow fell gently as a baby Xweetok was born. Her parents, Xweetoks Ariene and Aruno Talahyn, were overjoyed. They named their child Arathyne.

But their glee did not last long. Aruno was killed in a car crash a year later, and Ariene remarried quickly to a Xweetok named Raymund. Her new husband did not approve of Arathyne. He said she either must be killed or sent away, for he wanted their home to show no trace of Ariene's previous relationship. If things weren't dealt with soon, Ray would leave Ari. Devastated at the thought of losing Ray, she drove twenty miles with Arathyne to the Haunted Woods and left her year-old child in the middle of the forest to die or be found. Either way, Ari would be able to keep her husband and all would be well.

[Lilium]

Arathyne, who had had a collar on with her name engraved in it, was found the following day by a traveling human male, who took her to the Pound where Ari should have taken her in the first place, but was so desperate to be rid of 'the thing' as Ray called it, she didn't think clearly.

The boy left the baby Xweetok at the Pound, where she stayed (in the nursery) for six months. Then, one day, a tall Xweetok and his wife came and adopted her. She was treated well for a long time. But when she was three, things changed.

Her new parents, Kevin and Rebecca, had seven children of her own. None of them liked Arathyne. They thought she had a freaky name and didn't deserve love because she'd been adopted. Kevin and Becca agreed, apparently, because Arathyne soon became a servant to the family and treated very badly.

"Hey, stupid!" came Kevin's voice. "Get up!" A sharp kick to the side kept four-year-old Arathyne on the floor for a few moments. The kick sliced open a wound she had been given the day before that had started to heal. Bloodied and bruised, she got up and began the morning's chores.

She was scrubbing the floor, knuckles bleeding, when Becca called her name with a fallaciously sweet voice. Arathyne cringed, but went with the woman to the basement. Becca locked the door behind her and kicked Arathyne in the back, sending the girl flying down the stairs. Becca laughed cruelly and turned a single light on. She grabbed the girl and pulled her to the table in the middle of the room.

[Lilium]

Arathyne was naked and tied to the square wooden table, and she bit her lip. By now one would expect her to know better than to make any noise, but being a little girl, she couldn't help herself sometimes. Becca walked over to an oak desk, covered in select objects. Arathyne looked over to see what item would be used first, and wasn't surprised when she picked up a dull knife.

Becca walked over, and said matter-of-factly, "A dulled knife cuts worse than a sharp one. Did you know that, Arathyne?"

She nodded in reply as Becca started to cut into various parts of the little girl's body. Arathyne was shrieking and crying. Finally Becca, supposedly ignoring all the fuss, untied her and pushed her off the table. She held her down with a strong hand and made the blood drip into a bucket. Unsatisfied with the lack of filling, she took a shard of glass and held up the bottom of Arathyne's foot. She took the glass and sliced her foot right open. Arathyne screamed and her foot was dunked into the blood-filled bucket.

Finally, Becca took a glass cup from the table's drawer. It was broken all along the rim, making for a jagged one. She filled the cup with some of the blood in the bucket and handed it to the bleeding and shaking four-year-old with a kind smile. "Here you are, my love," said Becca sweetly. "Drink up, and be sure not to spill a drop!"

[Lilium]

She'd hoped that by now, she would have gotten used to the taste of her own blood coating her tongue and rushing down her throat where she felt it land in her stomach. But she hadn't. And often times she cut her lips on the cup rim, but what did a little more blood compare to a bucketful? The crimson liquid was thick and moved slowly, and she was disgusted with the taste. But she drank anyway, always careful not to spill, but always failing.

Becca watched Arathyne drink her own blood patiently. When Ara finally spilled some, she took a wooden plank and beat Ara on the back with it.

When the glass was drained, Arathyne felt sick, as usual. Becca pulled something new, a sort of iron star, out of the furnace that blazed to keep the house above warm, with a poker. The star was red from the heat. Becca took the burning star in a heavily gloved hand and pressed it to Arathyne's upper right arm. It burned ferociously. Arathyne screamed in pain, but Becca held her down. The skin was peeling away quickly. Finally Becca threw the star back into the furnace and kicked Arathyne toward the door and her clothes. The girl dressed herself weakly and Becca unlocked the door, kicking her up the stairs as she followed. Today's daily torture with Becca was done.

[Lilium]

The next day, Becca was at the store when Ara woke up. All the kids were at school, and Kevin was in his office. Ara pulled up the sleeve of the too-big t-shirt on her and looked at her arm, at the place where Becca had burned her. She expected to see an ugly burn mark with peeling skin like she'd fallen asleep with, without any aloe to soothe it, but to her surprise, the mark was gone. Her arm was as if she had not been burned at all.

Curious, Ara looked over her body. There were no scars to be found. Amazed, she realized that she felt physically better than she had in a long time. She wasn't bruised or sore or anything.

She went about her chores as usual and when Becca came home to find her toy with a secret smile on her face, she was furious. She dragged the girl by her arm to the basement, but as Ara was being pulled down the stairs painfully, something strange happened. One minute, she was on her way to more pain and suffering, and the next, she was in her room, her left hand on the tiny window, the only window in her attic bedroom.

When she pulled her hand back, there was a bloody handprint on the frame, dripping scarlet fluid onto the floor. But when one look at her hand showed no sign of injury or blood. And when she looked back at the window, the handprint and blood were gone. Ara didn't know it, but while she slept the night before, Mia had been born.