Emilio Calloway's Story

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.

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It was unusual for Echo to sleep through the night, normally her closed eyelids would be tinted with the shade of nightmares, the dying voices of her brother's and the cries of her mother and father as they were slain in front of her. Normally Echo would awake in a screaming fit, clawing at anything in reach and even scratching anyone who dared check up on the girl to see what all the fuss was about. Most anyone had learned to stay away from the room she occupied at night, to avoid going into her room lest they'd like to loose an eye. Tonight though, there were no visions of the past; instead her dreams were plagued by happy moments that Echo clung to desperately like a child who grabbed onto their mother's skirts so they would not get lost in market.

It was beautiful and unsettling.

Echo could hardly stomach it as she awoke to a foggy morning, sun fighting with clouds in order to pour in through the drawn shades of the window of the room she occupied. Echo did not consider this her room, none of these belongings were her's and so she'd never refer to them in the possessive sense, she liked to believe that everything was borrowed even if her initials were sewn into the pocket of her uniform shirt and her clothing were custom to her size. As the girl pushed the covers aside and strode over to the vanity she checked her arms for the marks she was accustomed to wrapping, the marring of nails in skin that tore her from the nightmares and spit her up into reality. Today there were none and yet despite this she chose to wear a long sleeved white button down shirt, the wheels in her mind reeling as Echo brushed her hair with a short, horse hair brush in order to remove the coarse knots from her scalp.

Once upon a time Echo's hair had been so long that even braided it would tickle her ankles. Now she found the femininity a bit of a hassle to keep up with and so she did not participate in the lavish female lifestyle. No, Echo had shorn her locks short in order to make the upkeep manageable. If anything it had been more of a symbolic gesture; she was finally being released from her past and with new life came new looks. Gone were the days of childish hair braiding and ribbon wearing, she was an adult with responsibilities and besides the fact it was really the only aspect Echo had control over. Her soul belonged to the hunter's, her life theirs to use or crush should they find or feel the need.

Echo tucked her shirt into the black skirt and zipped up her boots. Judging by the gloominess outside it was around breakfast and if Echo did not get downstairs soon then the new hunters would gobble down every last bite, leaving nothing for her. Rounding the spiral staircase Echo could hear the delightful chatter of people. She picked up her pace, reaching the dining hall only to see the tables were already packed. The hunter shook her head with a sigh and looked around, noticing a hand waving in her direction. Smiling with relief Echo made her way over to the table where the neighbors of her floor were seated, chatting delightfully about mundane things. The hand had belonged to Cheryl, one of the more senior hunter's who had sort of made it her mission to get Echo to open up to her. It wasn't working, but Echo was amused by Cheryl's attempts. She humored the girl really and the hunter made great company at the end of a long day when there was nothing to do but sit around and talk.

"If you don't hurry, you're gonna be late." The man to her left spoke, Niall. Eco waved him away with a shake of her right hand and lifted up the tea cup at her place. They had already made her a plate, which was unusual. "We figured since you hadn't been screaming last night it was best not to wake you," Niall spoke once more, a hint of a tease in his voice. "Thank you," Echo replied quietly and picked up her fork, warm tea already snaking its way through her belly. She finished quickly and stood, thanking the group once more for saving her a place and abandoning the cushy chair as she made her way out the door, quickly grabbing her coat from the rack and heading towards the Calloway residence where her partner, Aldwyn, lived.

She made it passed the gates of their residence and strode up to the door, knocking on the grand wooden doors that were so large they would easily intimidate a child.