Ghost Bird | ✔

Ten

Updates are back to slow... I lost my device again. *sniffles*

I hope you enjoy this update, even if it is a little choppy and scattered... *winces*

Wil

They were everywhere. The messages, that is. A group of people claiming to be looking for Ghost Bird.

I started publishing Sang's songs in hope that someone would finally save her. I even gave her that ridiculous name so that the Academy might find her. My sister, Kayli, has gotten involved with them and only changed for the better since then. Honestly, I don't care who saves Sang, so long as they actually save her. The reason why I didn't just go to the police is that her mother would get off lightly for her medical condition.

I don't want her to get off lightly.

Plus, if her mother got taken away, Sang would just end up in the foster system for the last year and a half until she turns eighteen. Ending up in the foster system is something I never want for her. Sang is far too good for this world. She is like a sister to me, probably more so than Kayli ever was, despite her efforts.

Despite everything that has happened to her, Sang has never given up. She remains kind, shy, and hopeful. So hopeful. I need to make sure that Sang's hopes are never dashed.

As much as I hope that this group is truly looking out for Sang, I have no way of knowing that they will do what is best for Sang. And what is best for Sang is what Sang wants. Sang has never had what she wanted, too controlled by her parents.

Sang is so scarred and damaged, I don't know how she is able to manage at all.

She is covered in scars, partially blind in one eye, missing a toe, missing a tooth, and decorated with broken bones, cuts, burns, and scabs.

Sang does not deserve this, and I cannot allow her to go into a worse place.

I have to be careful when giving this group of people information. If they are the right people, then yes, I absolutely want them to find Sang. If they plan on making her hell even worse, then I will never let them near her.

Quickly, I send out an encrypted message to everyone who posted, asking for help in finding Ghost.

What are your intentions with Ghost Bird?

I comment only on the messages posted on the less popular fan pages where I can easily monitor their responses.

I want—no, I need—Sang to have a better life than this. She deserves to be spoiled and put on a pedestal. I will not let her fall to the first people that claim to be looking out for her. Sang needs a good life, a new and fresh start, not a new hell.

***

Victor

"Another home, another case, another finding, another abused girl that isn't Bird," Nathan grumbles.

I can't blame him. None of us can. We are all taking this poorly. Now we are in Ohio, searching off of a comment. Someone claimed that they had seen someone who fit the criteria perfectly.

Why they didn't just call the police or child protective services when they saw a girl being abused, I don't know. It seems like common sense to me. Then again, I guess some people really don't understand what to do when they see someone being abused.

The main points are to make sure that they know you are there for them, develop a plan that will help them, and, if necessary, help them get away from their home.

If someone just took the time to ask if they were okay, they could change their whole life.

That's how I met Nathan.

His father had beaten him and I could tell that something was wrong, even though none of the bruises were visible, except a small one on his jaw. You could see it in his eyes though, that something was wrong, seriously wrong. It was what I saw in my eyes every time I looked in the mirror.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Aren't you that girly musician who plays the piano all the time?" He sneered, his blue eyes showing anger and brokenness.

"No, but I am famous for occasionally playing the piano. And I am the kid who sits two rows behind in you in first period," I answered easily.

Nathan merely rolled his eyes so I tried again.

"Are you okay?" I repeated, knowing from experience that he would lie, but that the gesture would brighten his day.

"I'm fine," Nathan lied, exactly as I expected.

"Okay," I agreed. "Want to hang out? I hear someone moved out of the house with the basketball hoop. My friend lives just across the street."

"You know Kota?" Nathan asked, surprised.

"Yup. Want to play basketball? I can see if Kota wants to join us."

He looked like he was going to turn me down, but at the word basketball, his eyes lit up, his day already seemingly better already.

"Only if you are fine with getting demolished."

The three of us, Kota, Nathan, and I, have been a close trio since that day.

Genuinely asking someone if they are okay is one of the nicest things a person can do.

A ping from my computer drew me from my sentimental thoughts and I quickly read the question commented on an almost empty fan page.

What are your intentions with Ghost Bird?

What? Do they have information about her?

Fingers flying, I type out the truth,

I cannot disclose much, but my team and I plan on making sure she is okay and, if not, getting her to a safe place where she will be okay.

Hopefully, that will be enough to convince them that we do indeed have only the best of intentions.

Hitting send, I close my laptop and walk quickly to Mr. B to inform him of the thread.