Prologue ~
"Are we almost there yet mommy?" I asked excitedly. Uncle Paul had picked us up from the airport and all around me outside my window were lights and water and giant buildings out of glass and shiny metal.
"Just a bit longer Cedes," My mom said, smiling at me from beside me. Jack, my big brother, was sitting on the other side of me. He laughed at me, so I folded my tiny arms across my chest.
"What?" I asked Jack confused.
"You've asked that like 10 times in the last 2 minutes!" He said grinning. "We only just got off the plane from France - chill Cedes!" I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Uncle Paul, what does your house look like?" I was already distracted by other thoughts. Uncle Paul chuckled quietly.
"Well it has a huge pool over looking the ocean, and it's mainly glass, and - " I interrupted him.
"You've got a glass house?!" I asked enthusiastically. Uncle Paul and my daddy looked at each other and laughed.
"Oh, yes!" My dad said, looking out the window to a big building with lots of white roofs that looked like sails from a boat. It was enormous! I couldn't understand how it fit there, by the water. It looked like half the world could fit inside it! "You can see a whole lot through those walls!" My dad said and both daddy and Uncle Paul burst out laughing.
"What is that building mommy?" I asked, pointing out the window.
"That's the Sidney Opera house, Cedes," She said, one of her hands on my shoulder. "We'll go visit it while were here." She told me, smiling. Suddenly the laughter from Uncle Paul and Daddy stopped. I heard a screech of tires and then our car was flying off the road. I heard my brother scream and my mom was yelling something at Uncle Paul.
My dad kept shouting over and over, "STOP THE CAR PAUL!!" But the car didn't stop. It turned and tumbled and I felt arms around me but they went limp after a moment and then the car stopped, lying on its side at the edge of the road. Tears streamed down my face and my body was in pain. I saw blood running down my body, but I didn't know who's it was. I screamed. I was scared and hurt and I had never felt this alone in all my life. I heard sirens outside but my mind was a blur. All I knew was that I had to get my family and myself out of here. But my legs were stuck between metal and it hurt! My vision was spotting through the pain and what ever was squishing my leg was to heavy for me to move. Then I felt the metal lift and I was in big strong arms. But I knew they weren't daddies. Daddy knew how to hold me better then anyone else in the world.
I heard some men shouting orders and I saw ambulances and fire trucks and police cars, but what caught my eye was the car. My family was still stuck. I had to save them. I had to! I kicked and screamed in the man's arms but his grip was stronger then I ever could be. I stared at the car in horror as it burst into flame and then there was a loud explosion. After that all that could be seen was melted metal and burned flesh.
People had died that night. People I loved. People that were my family. Later in the hospital a lady asked for my name as she put me in a bed with white sheets, gauze wrapped around the majority of my body.
"Mercedes," I'd whimpered. Four year olds were never that tough, but I tried to be - for my family.
"Just like the car..." The nurse had said quietly before leaving me all alone in the white room on the uncomfortable bed. I cried myself to sleep that night. That night the people I loved most had died in a Mercedes. It felt like it was my entire fault.
Chapter One ~ Memories
I was on the run again. My foster family didn't want me, and I didn't want them - so why should I stay? I looked behind me - they were bound to look out the window or something soon. The house I was leaving now was on the outskirts of Paris, France. I was in an international Forster Family society and they wouldn't just place me in one city, or country, I'd been sent all around the world just to live with Foster Families for a year or two, or sometimes even less. The 'home' I was leaving now, I had only lived in for 8 months. But the mother had ignored me. The parents' older daughter, Anna, had been absurdly rude too me. And the father had beaten me with a shoe whenever I did something that was even minor disobedience. It had only happened 3 times, but that was enough for me. I had lived there for 8 months, but before moving to France I had been in St.Petersburg, Russia, for 17 months. I had loved that family. They had a son who was 5 and named Sasha and was the most adorable thing ever. And Ivan the families older son, who had been 18 - two years older then I - had looked absolutely gorgeous with his clean cut features, bright eyes, silky blond hair, and a lean muscular body. The parents had been extraordinarily kind as well, treating me like their own child. But their house had been invaded and they were forced to evacuate. I was forced to live with yet another family. Before Russia I was in Egypt, but I only stayed there for 5 months - my family was considerably kind, but suspicious. They suspected that I was different. They always told me I had a closer connection to their Gods and Goddesses then anyone was supposed to have. I think they feared me. I had lived in London, England with a posh British family for almost a year. I had lived in northern Finland for 10 months and I had lived in Portugal for a little over a year. I had also lived in South Africa for a year and afterwards I had moved to India. My first family had been Italian. I had stayed with them for 3 years - my longest foster family since my own family's death. But then the father had died and the mother said that she loved me, but on her own she couldn't care for me as well as her 4 other children. I had also lived in Iceland for 2 years. So now I was fluent in over 10 languages. To put it simply - it was easy for me to get around.
