The Gifted One

Chapter One

5 years ago:

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" said a familiar voice. "SHE'S INSANE! EVEN HER PSYCHOLOGIST CAN'T HELP HER... I- I'M PUTTING HER UP FOR ADOPTION! I WON'T SPEND MY MONEY ON A LUNATIC BRAT LIKE HER!" the voice roared as it continued to echo all over the melancholic and empty hallways of this place, I used to call home. The voice was deep and very masculine and sometimes even raspy. 'Probably because of all the shouting' I thought to myself.

"I WON'T LET YOU TAKE HER AWAY! YOU TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME; MY FAMILY, FRIENDS, SANITY... EVERYTHING! SHE'S THE ONLY THING THAT WILL STAY WITH ME NO MATER WHAT." Said another voice, a high-pitched, squeaky one. This voice belonged to my mother. I could hear the pain in her screams as the dark voice started to growl at her; like a monster that finally crawled out of a child's bed and ready to devour it.

"IF SHE STAYS, I'M OUT OF HERE AND REMEMBER IF I LEAVE THERE IS NO MORE MONEY FOR YOU TWO, NO NICE HOUSE IN BEVERLY HILLS. NO MORE CHANEL BAGS; NOTHING." Yelled the voice.

"FINE! LEAVE! WE DON'T NEED YOUR NICE HOUSE AND WE CERTAINTY DON'T NEED TO LIVE WITH A NASTY, CHEATING BRUTE LIKE YOU!" said my mother's voice followed by the sound of broken glass. "TELL YOUR SECRETARY, LINDA, THAT MILEY IS OUT OF THE WAY NOW AND THAT THE COMPETITION FOR ADAM IS OVER!" my mom cried as my dad slammed the front door shut.

I heard the sound of a car engine followed by the irritating squeal of a car's tires as my father exited our house. I felt a tear rolling down my bright red cheek. My curly, brunette hair covered my small head and my hazel eyes were puff and red all around. More and more tears fell down my small cheeks as my mom sat behind me and started to caress my back. She cleared her throat, holding back a river of tears and then said, "have you packed your suitcase as I asked you?"

I nodded joylessly. I lifted my tiny, bruised hand and pointed towards the shabby wooden closet at the corner of my room. I used to spend most of my times in the attic, cause that's where my room was even though I our house had three bedrooms. A small window was neatly placed by twin sized bed, displaying the outside world. The view was magnificent and I, weirdly enough, felt like that window was my only escape from the living hell I was born in; and then pure emptiness. The only thing except from my bed and closet was the mucky, wooden floor. Whenever father walked up the stairs, leading to my room, the squeal would warn me about him, and mentally prepare me for what was about to come.

My mom walked up to the closet and found my worn-out suitcase. She dragged it outside of the closet and left the door open. She came closer to me, whipped my cheeks with her knitted, costly sweater and grabs my hand.

"It's time to go. We'll finally have a life we enjoy; be with people we love!" said my mother.

"Is Zeinab coming?" I said with a tiny bit of excitement in my voice.

"She's already there!" said my mom while a single tear finally escaped her beautiful hazel eyes. "They made sure our new home is ready, with furniture, toys and it's right next to their home; far far away from this prison."

I stood up from my bed and looked out my window for the last time. In only a few seconds, I could admire the outside world with my own two windows; my own eyes.

We walk down the stairs, down to the large living room and out the front door. The massive bushes and flowers masked the terrors that happened in that house. Masked everything that went on in that jail house. Even though i hate it, that brute and his cations made me who I am today. Shaped my personality in the worst possible way, and i perfected it. I, am Amethyst.