Ghost Bird | ✔

One

So this chapter came a bit sooner than I thought, but some impatient readers and an ice cream party brought this to you sooner. In the future, there will be songs posted with chapters, but they will not be the songs that Sang sings. I apologize for any mistakes, I didn't really get enough time to edit or even look over my work... *winces*

Enjoy and don't forget to vote and comment!

The words flow out of me like honey. I tip my head back and sing with all my heart. My eyes are closed and I am almost blind in one eye, but I can just see the words. The words are a piece of me. They are my own creation. They make me whole in a way that I have never been.

As the song comes to an end, I stop the recording and smile giddily the way that I do every time that I finish a new piece. I move the recording to the old and dented gunmetal blue thumb drive.

For the last year or so, I have been making all sorts of songs for my friend Wil. Wil is the only person other than Mother that I know. He sneaks up to my window every once in a while to make sure that I am safe. When he first met me, we were about eight years old and he tried to call the police on Mother. Could you imagine? Thankfully, I was able to make him see reason and now he just checks up on me and worries about me.

I smile, thinking about Wil. He is like a brother, I think. I have never had a brother, but I have read many books and I think he acts like an older brother. He is supposed to show up in a few minutes. For some reason, he likes my music and asks for the recordings every week.

Silently, I slip out of my room and into the hall. Mother was passed out in her room when I started recording, but I want to make sure that she is still sleeping before Wil comes. Carefully, I hover by her door and listen to her deep breaths until I am absolutely certain that she won't be waking up any time soon. She rarely wakes up after taking so many pills, but I just wanted to be sure. You can never be too careful, especially when it comes to Mother.

Nodding with satisfaction, I grin and head back to my room. I open up the old glass door to my balcony and sit on the floor below it. I pull my knees up to my chest and inspect the damage on them.

Not many people know how painful kneeling on rice really is.

For the first few minutes, it isn't too bad, just a bit uncomfortable. The rice digs into your knees and leaves indentations for a while. It doesn't hurt much at all. After the first few minutes, any movement sends pain through you. The rice digs in even deeper and shifting only makes it worse. Any longer and the rice will break the skin.

I no longer kneel on rice.

Now, Mother has me kneel on glass shards to pierce through the scars that developed from kneeling on rice for so long so often.

I inspect the scabbing over cuts in my knees and double check as best as I can to make sure that all the tiny slivers of glass are gone.

The sound of leaves crunching and breathing outside catches my attention. I jump to my feet and look outside to see Wil climbing up to my balcony.