The luna’s misery
Over time, I got used to it.
Helen smirked now, her eyes glinting with hatred. “Are you dumb, you daughter of stupid dead parents?”
Her high heel slammed into my head before I could move.
I screamed, the pain sharp and hot. Something warm trickled down my forehead and dripped onto my clothes. I touched it with shaking fingers.
Blood.
“Oh my God, it’s my blood,” I cried out, my vision spinning.
The laughter around me grew louder. “Look, the little weakling bleeds like a slaughtered pig,” Helen mocked. Her friends joined in, their voices echoing like demons.
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