Weeping Eve: The Clover Chronicles PROLOGUE DRAFT (PART 1)
Written by @yourlocalgayoticvampire (@gayoticbard on AO3)
It's the middle of the night. I should be asleep, but my mind won't grant me mercy. Instead of lying in bed, sleeping like a corpse, I'm curled up in the corner of my room, my back against the wall and my head in my hands, weeping uncontrollably. The air feels too still, like even the night is holding its breath. I cover my mouth to quiet my sobs. I don’t want to stop them. I want to scream, tear this room apart, claw my way out of my own head—but all I can do is sit here and cry quietly. I look around my room, searching for something—anything—that feels real. But everything is just shadows and shapes, familiar and foreign all at once. The posters on the walls blur through my tears, the corners peeling like they’re trying to escape too. My desk is still a mess, books piled high, pages sticking out like broken wings. My potted flower is so withered that I can't even tell what kind of flower it is anymore.
I can't even look at it anymore.
Every time I close my eyes, I see it again. Them. What I did. What I didn’t do. It replays over and over like a broken record. I can't do this, I need to take a breather, but I can't do that in such a confined space. I eye my worn-out messenger bag sitting below the window. Without hesitation, I get up to grab it and climb out my bedroom window. I’ve done this many times before, so I’m not afraid of getting caught by my aunt and uncle. They probably don’t even care.
As soon as I step outside, a chill wind curls around me. The full moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting a pale, ghostly light over the darkness. The silence is thick, broken only by the soft crunch of the grass beneath my feet. Shadows stretch long and strange across the ground, twisting with every flicker of the moonlight. There’s no one out and about at this hour. Perfect, no one to bother me. Without hesitation, I head for the forest miles away from my house.
The stillness of the trees at this hour is a great comfort to me. I come here often when everything feels heavy. The trees help me breathe when I can’t control my own. Out here, I can just think. Or not think, just exist. Right now that's all I need. I approach the steadily flowing river and sit on a nearby patch of grass. The soft ambience of the rushing water soothes my anxiety.
Suddenly, I hear leaves rustling nearby. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I get up quickly and look around. There's no one in sight, but I still can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched.
I look down and see a fluffy white cat with ember green eyes sitting next to where I was. She looks at me with pleading eyes, as if she was begging for affection. There was no resisting her, so I sit down and run my fingers through her soft fur. I lift my hand for a moment, so she takes that as an opportunity to climb upon my lap and claim it as her throne. She lets out a soft purr of delight as she makes herself comfortable. It seems I'm trapped now, not that I'm complaining. If i have to spend the rest of my life petting this adorable cat, then so be it. We sit there together for what feels like hours. I look up at the moon and realize how high it is in the sky. It’s shining directly above me, much brighter than usual. I should be heading back soon, but i can’t bring myself to get up. I look down at the cat fast asleep on my lap. She looks so peaceful, i don’t want to disturb her. ‘Where is she from?’ I can’t help but wonder. There’s a collar around her neck, so she clearly isn’t a stray. Her owner must be worried sick. Just to be safe, I check her collar. ‘Weird,’, I thought, 'There's no name or phone number.’ Instead, there’s a symbol engraved into the golden tag. I lean in closer to inspect it; it’s an eye with a spiral in the iris. I return to petting her, this time, I try to scratch the top of her head. The cat lets out a shrill screech and reciprocates. “Okay, you don’t like that. Sorry.” I say, deflated with guilt. I notice something glowing beneath . a tuft of fur on top of her head. I approach the skittish cat, airing on the side of caution, knowing she may try to attack me if I touch her head again, but curiosity is killing me. I slowly brush the tuft of fur to the side, revealing a third eye, emitting a bright golden glow that nearly blinds me. I shut my eyes and wait for the burning sensation to go away. When I opened them again, I notice something in the cats mouth- my bag. “Hey, give that back!” I demand. She simply ignores me and runs off, leaving me no choice but to chase her through the forest.
“Get back here!” I shout while running but she only picks up the pace. The cat darts between trees like a shadow, silent except for the occasional crack of twigs beneath her paws.
Branches slap against my arms as I run, breath hitching in my chest, “What’s your deal?” I shout, knowing she won't answer. She speeds ahead as if she knows where she's going. Suddenly, I trip over a root and fall forward, landing flat on my face.
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