The Mark of Ilman

Chapter 1 - A Tale of Gold

On my seventh birthday my father left and my whole life changed. I don’t remember much of it, but I remember waking up that morning shaken by these sudden markings on my right hand. They were small and beautiful but as I grew they too become more defined and swirled further about my hand and arm. I remember when I went to ask mom about it she was at the table crying and I asked where dad was. She was crying hard and her shoulders shook. She had looked so pale I wondered if she was ill. Mom cried for a long time while I layed my head in her lap. I remember her telling me dad had gone and that he wasn’t coming back.

I knew something had happened but that was the only answer I was ever given. 

Now I was just like a lot of other girls at school. The ones whose dad left the family to fend for themselves. I had always felt bad for those girls who I saw craving the attentions of boys and throwing themselves out there. I guess I'm the lucky one who's dad just "disappeared".

It made me wonder though, this "disappearance", if it had anything to do with the weird tattoos I had gotten that morning of my seventh birthday.

I don’t know, but since that morning mom had me wear fingerless gloves to hide them. My teachers and classmates would find me strange for never taking them off. I avoided using my hand and when I did, I kept them out of sight.

The other consequences of my tattoos was that I had no way of getting out from under my mother's constant supervision. I was not allowed to go anywhere alone and she refused to hear of friends driving me to school or getting me a car. So I am forced to take the short bus.

School was just a mere two miles away but mom made me ride the retarded short bus anyways. The worst part of it is she’s always determined to watch me from her bedroom window to make sure I got on the bus. Fine, she has a right to be overprotective and make sure I don’t ditch but I only ever did something bad once!

It was two years ago, I was a freshmen at the public high school down the road. This group of "popular" girls were bothering me and pushing me around in the girls locker room. I got so angry at them that my vision seemed to turn red and I broke this lighter I had in my hand, setting fire to the room.

I have no clue how that little lighter caused the whole girls locker room to burn down. But it did, and I was sent to the delinquent school down the road the other way.

You see, I don’t believe it was just the lighter that caused the place to burn down. There had to be something else that caused it but I could never come up with anything logical. 

So now I’m riding the retard bus (I am NOT a retard) and Nicole - the stupid chick who always tries picking on me at exactly this time - turns around and smiled at me.

“Hey, freak.” She pulled out a lighter and waved it in my face. “Wanna burn something, Nina?”

Her friend turned in her seat too and light a lighter of her own. “Sure. what about this ugly thing?”

They reached out and before I could stop them they took a chunk of my hair and placed it over the flame.

“Hey!” I shouted, swiping my hand out to pull away my hair.

Nina dropped her lighter on my lap and I gasped at the sudden warmth of the metal.

Nicole's lighter came closer to my face and I cringed as I felt the blistering heat on my cheek. I was suddenly shocked towards the flame and I felt the flame touch my cheek, but only for an instant.

They laughed again, enjoying my torment. I knew they were just too insecure to not be mean but that didn’t stop me from clenching my fists and trying my best to stay calm. I hated it when they tried to bully me but I couldn’t let them see they bothered me.