Sold to the Archbishop of Hell (Black Buter/Kuroshitsuji Fanfic)

Ch 1- The Night the Lights Went Out

*If you've not read the first story, Traded to the Archbishop of Hell, you will be HIGHLY confused. On with the sequel!*

Memory. Memory was her gift... Or so they claimed.

From a very young age, doctors and specialists had dubbed Marliegha's (Mar-leigh-a) uncanny ability to remember things easy as having a "photographic memory".

'A rare gift', 'So intelligent!', 'A modern day Da Vinci' everyone would say about her. They all thought her to be a sensational, wonderful, stupendous genius! She could remember the tiniest detail. She could even remember the day she was born.

As true as it all was, it didn't come in so handy for her the day her life took a turn for the worse.

The day her 'gift'.... became her curse.

The world was just beginning to rise from the Great Depression when she was born. However, her family had faired much better than others. 1929- 1931 plus the years on. However, 1931 was not a good year to her father.

Marliegha had always been a happy child. Everything from her books to simply watching the stars at night could make her smile. Even when things were bad, she found some way to push it all back until it made a u-turn again.

Her mother seemed happy enough, as well. She would catch her mother looking longingly out the window or distantly onto nothing, but whenever she would catch Marliegha looking at her, she would put a happy smile to her face. However, Marliegha could see the sadness in her eyes.

Marliegha knew she was the reason her father was never around much. Even when he was, it was Hell on Earth for her mother.

She remembered her father taking one look at her the day she was born and a disgusted and horrified look coming to his face. He kept screaming at her mother about how it was her fault she had turned out the way that she did.

Her father hated everything about her. From her raven hair, her unnaturally tall height, and especially her azure carribean blue eyes.

Her mother had blonde hair and dark blue eyes while her father had navy hair and almost black eyes. They were both so incredibly beautiful. So why didn't she have their looks?

To herself, no matter how many times her mother told her differently, she was hideous. In some ways, she looked like her mother, but not enough.

Whenever her father wasn't working, he was out drinking and partying. Then, on the rare days this didn't happen, he came home.

Whenever he did, her mother would send her to her room, tell her to lock the door, and not to come out until told otherwise.

She did as told, but she could still hear the screaming and yelling from her father. Precious items of the house being thrown and broken. But, most of all, she could hear the cries of her mother.

The next day, she would have cuts and bruises all around her body.

Her father never bothered with her. In his eyes, she might as well have not existed.

One day, her mother had come out of the master bedroom with a suitcase full of clothes and other belongings. She then packed a suitcase for Marliegha and they left in her mothers small Ford.

They may have had money to spare, but that didn't mean her mother squandered it on meaningless items.

They drove in that small car for what felt like hours. Her mother was fidgety and nervous the entire time.

When they finally reached their destination, she was surprised to find herself in London. Living in England, she had always wanted to visit, but had never bothered to ask. Only being six years old, it wasn't something she thought was needed.