Sold [Rough Draft]

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

           A thick memory fog clouded my head as my peepholes slightly opened to the world. A sprang of pain struck my head. I winced and recoiled to my my bed. I sighed and buried my face in my pillow.

         "Kim came by; she wanted to know why you didn't come to school today. I told her you weren't feeling well." Wren's voice echoed loudly in my head.

         I winced again, before propping myself on my elbows. I squinted at him leaning against my door, and cocked my head back. "Why am I in my bed? Why does my head hurt?" I reached to rub the back of my head.

         "You fainted."

         "Why?" I groaned and flopped back into my bed. I heard a soft shuffle of the floor, a couple minutes later, the edge of my bed dipped.

          "Those things, over there, made you pass out."

           "What things?" I asked, staring at his well shaped chin. Wren had these sharp features. Like an artist sculpted them each carefully. He was flawless. Half the time, I envied his girlfriend. But never bothered to tell Kim.

           "Happy birthday, Charity." He said flatly. He switched the topic pretty fast. I turned my head to the left and looking in his green eyes, but he broke the contact.

             "Thanks, Wren." I muttered and sat up fully in my bed. "Can you pass me the things, please?"

             "No," Wren said plainly and got up. He folded his arms over his chest and walked out, not once glancing back at me.

              I huffed out a sigh and swung my legs off my bed and strode over to my dresser. I pulled the red album off the surface, and dig my nails deep into its crimson flesh. I shuddered with anger, as I recalled last night's events. A surge of electric anger ripped through my body. I dropped the book and stomped down the hall and into the living room.

             They killed my mother.

            I was adopted.

             My parents looked up from their newspapers as I walked into the room. "Happy birthday, honey!" My mother smiled. No not my mother, some strange woman that picked my off the street and claimed me as hers. "We have a big day planned for you." She continued, not seeing my grave expression, or choosing to ignore it.

             "How could you?" I snapped. I didn't want to beat through the bushes. I wanted to get this over with; I want to know the truth. I watched with red eyes as my parents neutral faces turned into confused ones. "Why didn't you tell me I was adopted?"

               My father straightened his back and exchanged a look with my mother.

              "Why?" I demanded, glaring at both of them.

              "Charity, what are you talking about?" He asked. There was no facade of confusion on his face anymore. Fear and panic flashed in his eyes.

              "Don't start that crap with me. Why didn't you tell me you weren't my real parents?" I closed my eyes. God, I hope this was just some big mistake...that I was their daughter, and this person was just some lonely creep looking to fuck up someone's life. I wanted to be their real daughter. I wanted them to be my real parents. 

                     I opened my eyes slowly and looked back and forth from my mother to my father.

                    My father got up and started towards me. I backed up, but continued to shoot bullets at his face. I didn't wanted to be touched by any of them. The same tongues that sweet talked me and softly calmed me when I was little, were the same ones that burnt me with their torching fibs.