Legacy

I sit at the table, absently eating my breakfast. My stepsister perches across from me, nibbling a cracker daintily. After breakfast, I pack my bag. As I walk through the front door, my stepmother stops me.

"Mae, please. Remember your lunch," she says, shaking her head while she holds out a brown paper bag to me. I take it, and stuff it into my bag, my long black hair swaying in the crisp, cold air. I walk to my bus stop, and luckily the bus is already there. I take a seat at the very back, and turn my head to the window. Slowly I sink into a daydream.

I don't know my parents. Neither of them. In fact, nobody knows them. I don't even know their names. They were killed when I was very young, according to my stepmother.

My name is Mae-Belle Birch, but I go by Mae. I am 14 years old. I have blue-grey eyes, and long, jet black hair. I am not very tall. I am not popular. In fact, I am considered a geek. I read too much, don't talk enough, and all that sort of rubbish. I only have one friend. She's a bit mad. I'll see her at school, I hope.

I close my book, just as a single snowflake tumbles from the icy grey heavens.