I closed the zipper to my bag in a huff, and stormed out the door. Not caring to say goodbye to my Foster Mother, I dragged myself down the long driveway and onto the path leading to the main road. I threw my bag lazily onto the little green seat of the bus stop and plopped down next to it. Brushing my long, black hair from out of my face, I checked the bus timetable on the post next to my seat.
"8:20am." I mumbled to myself. "Just in time for school."
High school. So looking forward to that.
I'd never really gone to school ever in my life. Never gotten a good education.
Or had to.
But my Foster Mother thought it was time I did. What was it to her? She didn't own me. She wasn't even my real Mother! She didn't even know half my back story...
She found me in a ditch next to the road. I was chilled to the bone and drenched from the storm tumbling through the clouds and terrorising the city below. 6 years old and frozen with cold and fear, she approached me, with slow steps.
"Hello?" She looked down at me cautiously, like I was about to attack her. "Are you OK?" She took another step closer.
It had felt like my lips were glued shut. Who was this woman? Where was I? What was I going to do?
"What's your name?" She asked me.
I was freezing and shaking, and it seemed like my voice wouldn't work at all. But then I spoke.
"I-I'm Melissa... Melissa Sparks." I managed to choke out, shaking uncontrollably.
"So Melissa, what are you doing all alone out her in the cold?"
"I-I don't know--"
I stopped. And I realised. I did know.
Twisted memories, demented pictures, all came crashing into my mind like the thunder and lightning raging above. My little mind couldn't take it.
I burst into tears. Heart-breaking, overwhelming tears.
The women was taken aback, but nevertheless, she had a strong heart and wanted to help this little girl on the street. She offered out her hand, and very shakily, I took it. She lifted me to my feet and guided me out of the pelting rain, underneath a shop roof.
The woman could see that I was troubled. She was right. I knew I would probably never see my family again. But maybe she could help me.
"Where are your Mummy and Daddy?"
"Th-they're... Gone..." I choked, starting to cry again.
She opened her arms wide and embraced me in a warming hug. She let go of my small body and wiped the fresh tears from my pink cheeks. She smiled.
"It's OK. It'll be alright. I'll look after you."
She took one of my small, cold hands in hers and lead me a few streets down to a modern looking house with a long driveway. She scrambled around inside her handbag and pulled out a big, silver key, unlocking the door.
She lead me inside and closed the door behind her. The house was quite warm compared to the cold outside. She took me to the bathroom and cleaned me up a bit. Seeing the purple bags under my eyes, she walked me to a spare bed, bundling me in blankets and sitting on the wooden frame.
I could feel my eyes drooping from exhaustion, but I had so many questions to ask. Only one managed to escape my lips before I entered the world of dreams:
"What is your name?" I muttered to the kind woman.
"It's Emma. But from now on, you can call me Mum." She smiled and brushed my hair out of my face, before turning off the light. Within seconds, I was fast asleep.
The loud, clunky engine of the local bus woke me from my vivid memories, sending me spiraling back into reality. I picked up my bag and flung it over one shoulder, as the bus pulled up outside the bus stop.
It had been 8 years since Emma had found me on the road and taken me into her care.
8 years in that house she lead me to on that night.
8 years in that same bedroom.
8 years not knowing where my real Mum or Dad was.
Emma was kind and understanding. She minded her own business. She never once asked me of my past, my family, or anything. But she did know that the world that she called 'normal', confused me. My world was much different. She had taught me the basics, but I longed for my family and my real home.
I climbed up the stairs to the bus and payed my fair. Taking a seat near the back of the bus, I looked out the window.
Emma was like a Mum to me. But she wasn't. She would never be my real Mum. Real Mums you could share all your secrets with. But Emma would freak if she knew mine, if she even believed me. She seemed to be getting curious lately though. My weird disappearances the same time each month. My weird characteristics. My 'special talents'. 8 years and you'd think she'd have found out. She was nice and all, but she really wasn't very good at observing.
Emma didn't know my secret. I'm was gonna keep it that way. Even if I did have to blend in with this world. Or go to high school.
What if my secret got out though? I was good at controlling my... 'Secret', but would it be enough? What if someone found out? Where would I go?
We'd have to see. No secret can stay secret forever.