Damnation's whore (open if you dare)

I reach for the dairy under the paying desk. It’s light blue and has a number two on the cover. I take a very long sigh and sit on the chair taking the pen and start to write inside of it. The small light near me is the only thing lighting up the store at night.

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Damned... That's how I feel right now. I have felt this way for a long while. It started maybe a two weeks after I got my first sale at my book store. I was painting and my day was not to well. I got robbed in the market, tripped and sprang my ankle, and found out my step-father was really sick and of course... She never helped and I could not help him. He is better but the days just get harder now. My drawing and singing help me but if something dose not change... I don't know. I keep it to myself though, keeping that happy face for people who truly care, keeping them from worry. I suffer though; I and the people around me are the cause.

About in between the two weeks I met a boy who wanted a new book from my store. He said that before I was in charge he came here all the time read just about every book. I was writing a story and I was thinking of making it a book to sell or rent. So in a day of two I had it published by me and up on the shelf. The boy rented it and came back the next day with his mother. The mom yelled at me because of the book, saying it could get him arrested and it is very wrong. It was about a man who was a peacekeeper and a found out what he was doing is wrong for the way he treated people in the district was bad. At the end of the book it trails off with him defeating a rival and him facing off with the capital in order to make the districts a better place to live in.

I was reported and about got in deep trouble for the book so I got rid of it before any proof was needed. A peacekeeper comes by to check up on my store once in a while. I can't paint or draw in my free time anymore and I'm always too tired to when I get home. I hated that family, I hated that peacekeeper, and I wished they both just die... I now regret those thoughts because the anger affects my business and how I treat my friends and family. This is all wrong; I have never been this way. People just left me alone, now I get ugly faces when they walk by, mean notes from people I don’t even know, and sales drop. Hunger increases for me and hunger can do bad things for people. Hunger is evil.
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I close the dairy and put away. Taking another depressing sigh and turn off the small light. I am so sleepy. Maybe if I jut lay my head down for a little I thought. I was a sleep. “Tyraa... Tyraa,” said a familiar voice.

I look up to find the voice, my world felt dizzy. I looked around seeing that I was not in my store anymore. My eyes widen at my heart speeds up. I was outside on the street. Rain pored down with no one in sight. I sit up wet and cold yet I could not move anymore. It was silent, too silent. Only the rain I could here and someone breathing. I close my eyes as I felt it on my shoulder, hoping it would go away. “Well, well, look at the tiny whore!” hissed the voice.

I open my eyes to see myself?! Yes it was I only the hair was black not brown and there was a red lighting streak in it. My eyes were blood red and seemed to glow. I yelped and fell over to the hard street unable to stop looking at the evil me. She stood the grinning, giggling at my scared exasperation. “How is it good looking?” she said. Her voice was mine only sounded tainted. “You forgot about me?”

Her grin turned to a frown as her glowing eyes focused on me. I could hardly breathe for I truly saw the transformed evil me. She was taller, better looking, and she had that glow that anyone wanted. She was wonderful other than the burnt arm scar. I look at mine then look at hers. Hers had veins popping red all over, muscled to the point it was inhuman. Her hand suffered the same fate as the fingernails were five times longer than any I ever saw. Staring at it just made her angry. “Stop looking!” she hissed. Her voice echoed around the empty world.

“What do you want with me?” I manage to say. This question only made her even angrier. “Shut up you little troll!” Owch... I have not heard that since... “The ax man,” she grinned.

She knew me. She was me, a more evil me. “I’m glad I could get to talk to you Tyraa. A whore like you needs some talking to.” She said. “You don’t haft to live like this. Feeling like every day is that rainy day. You know, the saddest day in your life. It dose not haft to be like this.” She said leaning down to me. “Just let me help you. Everything can be better. Just let it out Tyraa.” Her burnt arm grasped my neck slowly choking me.

Her words felt cold and bitter but... I felt so depressed the past days it seemed so simple. Just fade away and let her have a kick at things. “Just close your eyes and go back to sleep.” She said her blood red eyes burning now.

“No... I...” I could not finish my sentence, I could not breath. I faded away.

I woke up with a start. The morning sunlight glared in the window. I sighed, “Another day of work.” I got up and turned the sign to open then head to my art room. Was it a dream? It had to be. But, why am I so calm about it? I went to my paints and dye. Thinking of what to draw I had an odd idea.

“I need a new look” I said grabbing the black and red dye. My actions seemed to be blinded and numb as I worked on my hair for an hour. Black with red streaks, I knew that was not the right dye to use but I felt fine.

"I have not felt this good for a while." I said to myself. A small smirk creeps up on my face. I soon went back to my books hoping that a customer would at least pop in. Even just to get warmed up. It was cold out after all.