Ghost Bird | ✔

Forty-Six

Lifting myself up, I cross my legs beneath me and try and find a comfortable position while I adjust all the sheathes on me so that none of my gear is digging into me. My gaze wanders from the passing scenery to the interior of the van. Unconsciously, I have already memorized every detail of the interior. From the fray of Cecile's seatbelt to the burn mark on the carpet to the strand of hair resting on the dashboard that moves every time Cecile breathes.

Cecile is intently focused on the road. Her eyes are glued out the window and she cannot tolerate noises of any kind while driving for whatever reason. I was able to learn the basics of driving over the months, but Cecile still won't let me drive.

Sighing silently, I slump even further in my seat only to perk up when Cecile announces, "Ahh, here we are."

I study the streets, but I don't recognize anything at all. It is a simple neighborhood. Picket and chain link fences. Outdoor toys for children litter the yards of multiple houses and the flower beds are thriving. It looks somewhat average, like a normal middle class neighborhood.

"Where are we?" I ask slowly.

Cecile doesn't take her eyes off the road as she responds, "To visit an old friend."

"An old friend?" I repeat.

Cecile has friends? How strange... Why does it feel like my life is a lie? Well, even more of a lie, that is.

Cecile smirks, as if she can see where my thoughts went. "An old friend of yours, Sang."

"Wil?" I say, tilting my head. Wil is the only friend I've ever had.

Cecile pulls into a driveway and parks the car. I unbuckle as she turns off the ignition. I pull up my bandana and make sure that it is secure. Cecile doesn't want me to be seen in this outfit with my face showing. She said that it would be too easy to figure out that I am Ghost Bird.

My face is perfectly clear of emotion as I walk up to the front door soundlessly. Cecile gives me a nod and I rap on the door three times.

It is not Wil that comes to the door though.

I draw my guns faster than I ever have before and point them directly at her heart.

"What's going on?!" I hiss to Cecile.

That's when I see it.

The camera.

This is the footage Cecile needs.

Me striking back at my mother, my abuser.

"No," I tell Cecile, glancing away from Mother.

"Yes," Cecile calls gleefully. "Now's your chance, Ghost. Have at it."

I want to resist. I want to fight Cecile. But I can't. Not yet, at least.

"I demand to know who you two are and what is going on!" Mother demands in her shrill voice.

Cecile gives me a pointed look. Instantly, my mind clears and I move. It is as if I am not there. I know what is going on, I can feel it all, but I am not there. I am vacant. A true ghost.

I yank the door open and shove Mother out of the way. She falls to the ground with a scream. But I don't hear it. Yet I hear it loud and clear. It reverberates through me and I can hear the terror in it. I lean down and grip her by her too tight shirt and pull her to her feet.

"Walk," I order through clenched teeth.

A pathetic whimper escapes her and I lead her into the kitchen, Cecile following and videoing it all. I release her and she crumples to the ground.

"Stand," I grit out.

Terrified, Mara scrambles to her feet. I throw a punch to her nose and she screams and screams and screams and screams and screams.

"Stand," I repeat.

She climbs to her feet, swaying in place. Her face looks awful. Her nose is completely destroyed. Blood is everywhere. Her nose is caved in and I think I see bone. I'm honestly surprised that she hasn't passed out yet.

Mara stumbles forward and I instinctively snap out a kick to her stomach that sends her tumbling to the ground. I kick her in the ribs. And kick her again. And again. And again.

"Stand," I hiss finally, tired of her incessant screams.

She sobs and remains curled in a broken ball.

"Stand!" I roar.

Her sobs grow louder and she forces herself to stand. Still hardly even registering what I am doing, I draw my stiletto knife from my pocket. I grip her chin tightly and slide the knife in her skin, carving into her cheek. The blood spills onto my hand as I carve. When I finish with that cheek, I turn her face and carve into the other side. She's unconscious and sagging against the kitchen counter, but I hardly notice. I'm too focused.

I release her and she falls to the ground with a thud. Stepping over her, I feel completely hollow.

I tilt my head and stare at Cecile emotionlessly.

"Got enough footage?"

Cecile purrs, "Absolutely perfect, Ghost."

Nodding, I head to the bathroom and begin washing the blood off my hands.

It seems that that is all I am now.

A ghost.

I don't exist. Few people know about me. And now I'm not even sure that I'm human.

The water turns red but the blood doesn't stop.

"Get off!" I scream, scrubbing harder. "Stop!"

I slump over the sink, sobbing. I just—I can't...

No, Sang.

No.

Don't feel. Not yet. Once this is all over, you can fix everything. You can find the boys. You can fix them. You can begin to heal. But now? Now is not the time. You cannot feel yet. You must remain strong.

I clear all the emotions from me and push the thoughts away from me.

I walk out of the bathroom and take one last look at my mother. Blood coats her and her nose is completely destroyed and her ribs are broken. What stands out more, though, are her cheeks.

S.S.

My initials.

One S in the left cheek, one S in the right cheek.

I won't kill her. That would be too easy. Death would come as a relief to her. No. Now, every time she looks in the mirror, she will see what I did to her. She will see that I beat her. That I am stronger. She won't go a day without thinking of me. Remembering all that she did to me. Remembering how I beat her in the end.

I have come to the other side of the board now. I am a white piece surrounded by darkness. But I am no longer a pawn.

I am now a queen.