The Ghost Bird

Chapter one: The beginning

I watched as the last moving truck pulled in. I had surprised when mother said we would move, but still numb.

"Sang" My mother had screeched from the stairs. I ran to comply with her wishes at break neck speeds.

"Yes mother" I had answered.

"What were you doing up there? Whoring yourself out again?" She said in a venomous tone.

"No mother I was reading", "Do not lie to me!" She howled and pushed me to my knees,

"Wait there " She said, her lips twisted into a malicious smirk.

I waited without movement while she prepared - A CROWBAR?!? 

I curled into a ball anticipating the first strike. I bit my as blow after blow assailed my ribs, then winced as I heard cracks - Not from the pain, but instead the knowledge that this would most definitely hurt like hell tomorrow. 

When she was finished she spoke again, "Sang I want nine hours of training tonight and no excuses, also you have one box for clothes and two for books, we're moving and I want them ready tonight.

After that I had packed my boxes and done my training. 

I was almost positive that if my mother knew the joys cooking and training brought me, not so much all the other chores though, she would take it away in an instant. 

We had loaded our boxes into the car, me with my three, mother and Marie with what looked to be fifty each. 

We got inside the truck, and I still had no idea where we where going, at least not until I saw the sign. 

We where in Charleston, North Carolina, and I was speechless when we pulled into a driveway. Our house was a beautiful two story house with large windows and a back yard leading into a forest. 

The neighbourhood was equally as beautiful filled with trees and sunny walkways with manicured lawns to match.

"Sang grab your things" Mother yelled back at me, her and Marie already halfway into the house laughing together. 

I felt a pang of envy at that, but collected my boxes any way, ignoring the stares of the workmen unloading the other ones.

"Go put your things in your room, Marie has first choice", I listened patiently 

"And you are going to school this year so suck it up and don't annoy me"

I walked up the stairs, mind reeling. 

Public school?! I hadn't been since I was eight, and had no honest social skills whatsoever, due to never having a friend before, not to mention that I had a higher understanding of all the subjects there than the teachers did. 

After pondering over that point I decided it would be best just to keep my head low and blend in, become invisible. I was jolted out of my thoughts by Marie pushing me out of the way,

"That room is mine bitch, don't go in it." I realised I had been standing in the upstairs hall without moving.

I peeked into Maries room, not surprised to see it was huge with a walk in closest and double bed, and then mine, the walls were a faded baby pink which I immediately adored, one window with a tree next to it, good for escapes, a single mattress on the floor that only had a few springs poking out and a cupboard next in which I could store clothes in next to it.

 I would keep my pile of books in the corner by my bed where with closer examination there was also a small attic door.

My room was small and bare, but I loved it. After that I went outside, grabbing some food gels and practised for a few hours, I looked inside and realised Mother and Marie would soon want dinner, so I headed inside and cooked it.

Though I could rarely eat real food, cooking was something I loved, something I treasured, evem though those I cooked for would never appreciate it, I made every meal a masterpiece and cooked with love as I could spare. 

 While they were eating, I did the dishes and dessert, before moving onto the washing and cleaning, before unpacking all the boxes and organizing Maries room, even though I knew next time I came in she would mess it up to create more work for me.

When I came down stairs, my mother threw me to the ground and started kicking my already broken ribs and stomach, while Marie watched with a smile, this usually meant she had made up something I had done just to see me hurt.

I crawled up to my room and collapsed, thousands of needles shooting hurt ribs and stomach and drew a different life in my notebook, before falling into the clutches of sleep.