Chapter 1: Who is Asa Raven?

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✩ C E L E S T E R A V E N ✩
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The rain pounded against the window as I crouched on the floor of my mother's bedroom, the dim light casting eerie shadows. I had only intended to retrieve my dropped book, but my fingers brushed against something tucked beneath the bed. I froze, my heart racing. I knew I shouldn't be in here—Mama would be furious if she found out, and her punishments were always the worst.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out a dusty box and opened it. Inside were old photographs and letters, each item whispering of a past I barely understood. Among them, a series of pictures caught my eye—a boy with a dull expression, captured in moments of what seemed to be sadness and perhaps fear? I didn't recognize him, but something about his face felt familiar, like a forgotten dream.

With trembling hands, I sifted through the letters. They were addressed to a man named Jared Raven, written with love and care, speaking of a son named Asa. Some of the letters appeared worn, as if they had been handled many times. It struck me that maybe my father never even bothered to open the letters in the first place. As I read, my heart practically stopped. Asa was my older half-brother, someone my Mama never mentioned. Why was he a secret?

Beneath the letters lay an envelope with my name on it. I hesitated before tearing it open, revealing a birth certificate—Asa's. My hands shook as I studied it, trying to understand what it meant. Who was Asa? Why did Mama hide him from me? And where was he now?

Before closing the box, I quickly snagged one photo of my supposed newly found brother and tucked it into my pocket. I carefully placed everything else back in the box, holding the birth certificate close to my chest. This was a secret I couldn't share, not with Mama in this mood. As I slid the box back under the bed, my mind buzzed with questions and worry. What would happen if she found out I knew about Asa?

I backed out of my mother's room, my heart still pounding. I made sure to close the door quietly, then tiptoed back to my own space. Calling it a room would be generous—it was a small closet where I slept on a tattered, stained blanket, using a wadded-up t-shirt as a pillow. The house reeked of alcohol and drugs, a constant reminder of Mama's anger and neglect.

Once inside, I wished I could lock the door, but Mama didn't allow locks. I didn't dare use a chair to block it either—I had tried that once before, and the punishment I received was something I would remember for the rest of my life. My body ached with bruises and cigarette burns, remnants of Mama's rage, and I was constantly hungry, my small frame weak and malnourished.

I sat on the floor, staring at the photo of Asa. The boy in the picture looked about sixteen? Maybe seventeen, with dark hair and eyes that seemed to hide a world of pain. Why had Mama hidden him from me? What had happened to make him disappear from our lives?

The loneliness I felt growing up seemed even more pronounced now, knowing I had a brother somewhere out there. I thought about the stories Mama never told me about my father—stories she kept buried deep, only ever mentioning that he had left before I was born. But she never mentioned Asa. Was he a victim of our father's abandonment too? Why had Asa never tried to reach out to me? Did he escape, or was he sent away? The questions swirled in my head, each one more pressing than the last.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Mama's silhouette appeared in the doorway. I quickly shoved the photo and the birth certificate under my blanket, my heart racing. She stepped into the room, her eyes narrowing as she looked around.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

"Nothing, Mama," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just reading."

She eyed me suspiciously, then glanced around the room, her gaze lingering on my makeshift bed for a moment. I held my breath, praying she wouldn't check. After what felt like an eternity, she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

I let out a sigh of relief, my hands trembling. I knew I had to be more careful. Mama was unpredictable, and if she found out what I knew, there would be consequences.

As the hours passed, I lay on my blanket, my mind racing with thoughts of Asa. I wondered what he was like now, where he lived, and if he even knew about me. I clutched the photo and the birth certificate tightly, making a silent promise to myself. No matter what it took, I would find Asa and uncover the truth about our family. And maybe, just maybe, he might want to accept me into his life and build a future together.

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The evening air in the kitchen felt heavy with tension as I heard Mama's angry summons from downstairs. My heart raced, knowing what awaited me at the foot of those stairs. Carefully, I tiptoed down, each creak of the wooden steps echoing loudly in the silence. The smell of Mama's stale cigarettes and the faint hint of alcohol wafted up the stairwell, mingling with my fear.

As I reached the bottom, the door burst open with a bang that made me jump. There stood Mama, her eyes wild and bloodshot, her unkempt hair framing a face contorted with rage. The sight of her sent a chill down my spine, I tried my best and failed to not show my fear.

"Get down here, you worthless brat!" Her voice cut through the air like a whip, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I quickly tucked my favorite book under my blanket, trying to hide it from her wrath.

Before I could move, she grabbed my wrist roughly, her nails digging into my skin painfully. "You're hurting me, Mama..." I whimpered, my voice barely audible over her tirade.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Her voice was a venomous hiss as she dragged me toward the kitchen, each step feeling like a march to my own execution.

The kitchen greeted us with its chaotic scene—dishes left unfinished, trash scattered across the table. Mama's demands rang in my ears as she shoved me toward the stove, her grip tightening with every word. "Why isn't dinner ready yet?" Her words were punctuated with sharp jabs of her nails, leaving painful marks on my skin.

I nodded silently, trying to steady my trembling hands as I lit the burner and began preparing the meal. Mama settled into her seat, her gaze fixed on me with unwavering intensity. "Hurry up," she hissed, her impatience like a heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders.

My fingers fumbled with the knife as tears blurred my vision. I chopped vegetables mechanically, stirring the pot with a numbness that dulled the ache in my heart. The heat from the stove made me sweat, despite the chill in the air.

When the food was finally ready, I set it before Mama, trying to ignore her scrutinizing glare. She ate in silence, her every movement a reminder of her displeasure. I stood beside the stove, my stomach growling with hunger that would remain unsatisfied.

After she finished eating, Mama slammed the empty plate into the sink, the sound reverberating through the kitchen. "Clean up," she ordered, her voice cold and distant as she turned away from me.

I nodded again, my body aching as I washed the dishes. The sting of her nails on my arm still throbbed, the pain a harsh reminder of her control over me. When I finally finished, Mama was gone, leaving me alone in the oppressive silence of the kitchen.

As I sat down on a worn chair, clutching my throbbing arm, I felt a mix of exhaustion and despair wash over me. The tiny glimmer of hope from Asa's photo seemed distant now, buried under the weight of Mama's anger. Yet, it was all I had to hold onto—a secret reminder that somewhere out there, I had family, even if they were only in faded photographs and hidden birth certificates.

With a heavy heart, I curled up on my blanket that night, clutching the photo and birth certificate, my fingers tracing the edges of Asa's face. This was it. This was it, this was proof of my connection to Asa, a fragile lifeline in my turbulent world. And as I drifted off to sleep, I clung to that secret, hoping that somehow, someday, the two of us could meet.

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A/N: I know it's a bit short but I promise I'm going to be working on the second chapter and hopefully it'll be out later tonight or tomorrow.

I'm very nervous to see how people will react to the first chapter of my story. I would really appreciate it if you could inform me of any typos or spelling mistakes and I will fix those immediately!

As I said before I don't mind people giving me ideas or suggestions as long as they're kind!

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