The Ties That Bind

I: The Beginning

A/N So this is my first story. I'm very excited to finally be writing on here instead of just reading. I've always been a writer at heart but sometimes I feel a little uninspired. I have so many ideas for stories, some that are pretty developed and others that are just that: ideas.

I hope you enjoy!

I feel cold. My arms, my legs, my body, and even my thoughts seem to grow cold and distant. I try to breathe in and feel a rush of water enter my lungs. My mind and body begin to panic as I try to cough up the water only to have all my senses assaulted again as the icy liquid flows into my body. My thoughts become foggy and my body grows weak as the dark water continues to swirl around me. I think there is no hope left for me as I close my eyes, excepting my fate.

Suddenly there is a sensation of me being lifted out of the darkness and the cold. Strong arms wrap around me pulling me from the water. I try to look up at the figure but all I could make out was the silhouette of a person. Mustering up all the strength I have left, I lift my head up to see my savior, but before I can my world went black and I am plunged back into darkness.

I wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom in a cold sweat. It takes me a while to remember that I am in a different house than the one I had become accustomed to. The shock of having the dream again gives me a momentary lapse in memory.

Years have gone by since I've had that dream. Of course, it isn't really a dream but thoughts of that day seem to haunt me most when I am asleep. Sometimes it is much easier to pretend that it is just a dream; that that nightmarish day never actually happened to me. But as always, waking up the next morning only makes it seem all the more real.

"Grace! It's time to wake up dear!"

I groan, not used to having such an early wake-up call. Dad always let me sleep in as long as possible knowing that I didn't need much time to get ready back at home.

No, I think. I have to think of this as home. This is my home now.

Reluctantly, I pull myself up out of the bed and make my way down the stairs to find my new mother and my new sister Olivia. I suppose that I shouldn't refer to them as new. They technically have always been my relatives.  My mother has always been my mother and since the day she adopted Olivia—post-divorce—she has always been my sister, but it hasn't been until recently that those titles have begun to take on some meaning. My parents split up when I was 9 for what the generally referred to as "irreconcilable differences". I stayed with my father after that and saw very little of my mother though he always assured me that it wasn't because she didn't love. It was simply because she wasn't ready to be a mother yet, especially for someone as "unique and gifted" as I was. Apparently, though, she eventually was ready to be a parent and Olivia was the inevitable by-product of that. 

Recently, my father took a business offer for his dream job and at first, both of us had been completely elated by this. Though once he found out what the job entailed exactly, and the constant moving around that would take place for us both, he thought it would be best if I stayed with other relatives until I completed my senior year and graduated high school. We moved around a lot before but seeing as this is my last year of high school he didn't want me to have to constantly adjust to a new school. After that, he said I am free to live with whomever I please.

There were other choices of family to stay with but my father insisted it was with my mother and sister. And of course, once my mother was alerted to the situation, she was more than happy to accommodate me for a year of schooling. Both parents thought that spending time with my mother and my sister would be good—healthy even—for me.