I thew a log into the fireplace. The fire warmed my skin but not my cold hearted soul. Across from me sat a startled Mariam. Her blank eyes staring into the fire. Not speaking she reached over and grabbed her book. Wolves howled into the distance. They scare the crap out of me.
She finally broke the silence and said "Can you sing?" I was quite surprised. But I did. I nodded.
"Do you remember Macklemore? The one who made thrift shop. Sing Same Love. Please."
I started to sing the song she asked. It brought back old memories that made me tear up. In the song I was at the about paraphrasing a book 35000 years ago when Mariam started to sing. A few minutes later we were both sitting next to each other, with me cradling her in my arms. She pulls away and pulls out her sleeping bag and crawls in.
I cant believe what I did. I killed her father. That makes me a murderer! I kept contemplating when a rope lashed around me throught as I was hit in the head.
"Max get up!" Steve said as he shook me violently.This cant be happening. The door swings open and the leader comes in. She walks up to me, bends down and hits me in the face. I tear up and get up and that jerk slaps me again. She says to me "Do not cry on Sunday." That was the day I ran away.
This was back ob my orphan days. When I was sent back and forth between orphanages. The first one was Lady Maria's Home For The Disciplined. She used to beat everyone who slept passed 7 am. She despised me greatly, it was probably because I embarassed her in front of the Pope. The next one was plainly called Blackstreet. The. curator of Blackstreet was named Thomas II. He cared for everyone of his "kids". Both of them were located in the rural London.
I awake to voices.
"What does he have?"
"Shut up Gaberiel!"
"Why should he?"
"Calm down children. Now tell me why you knocked them unconscious?"
My eyes flutter open and speak up. My vision is blurry.
"Why did you knock me out?"
"She can talk!"
"Shove off!"
"Quite Max!"
The room is dark and I am tied up to the wall, naked. This is quite awquard.
"What is your name?" the old man asked me
"John Grapple."
"How old are you?"
"27 turning 28 in a few day." I responded.
"Good. Now how did you get here." He responded.
I told him the story.
"Where is Mariam?" I ask as I looked around.
"John, she is dead."
