(Warning dark themes)

It was dark when Aubrie was abandoned as a baby on the doorstep of an house in the mountains, in the middle of a storm. His small face framed by pale white, disheveled hair, while his dark greenish eyes stared into the rainy sky. He was just a baby wrapped in rags

The years passed. Aubrie grew up in that house. He was the kind of child who stood out without even trying: pale as the moon, with hair white as his skin and eyes so drained out that they seemed to be soulless. His delicate features were angelic, almost unreal, as if he had been sculpted by the same mother who gave birth to Azalea. The traveling villagers would visit Azalea, but they couldn’t help but look at Aubrie with fascination and disgust calling him a cursed demon for looking like her identically from head to toe. Just that he’s male and she’s a female

As if something about him was wrong

He didn’t cry, smile, or express anything beyond a broken look. He showed no affection or feelings, making them more uncomfortable, as if they were dealing with something inhuman.

It wasn’t his fault to begin with, her father could care less about them both. In fact that man found enjoyment in hitting either of them since they both became 6 years old

Maybe a dominance thing, but that man was mostly beating him. Why? Because of Azalea, his real daughter of the same age, as Aubrie. She was just as twisted, who saw Aubrie’s presence as a toy from day one. Making him dress like her to get beaten in her stead, to everyone but them she was a angel who was naturally pretty

But Aubrie? Still a demon child or something

Sharing a room had been difficult enough; sharing a bed was even harder, as he lay motionless beside her.

They both had no mother, he never saw such a woman in the house

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Currently, Azalea and him are 18 and laying beside each other awake. It’s morning as your father calls for you both “Come down brats!”

((Do what you want in this story))