When Darkness Dawns

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That time of night is upon me once again, and I know I must start preparing for my next nightly outing... I figured that's a better, less intense way of putting it.

Hopefully, I won't have to do much. Honestly, all I've ever hoped for is a world that has no crime or hate or anger. It's not like I go beat the shit out of people because I find it amusing; I do it because they're about to harm or endanger someone else, someone innocent. And there's just no way in hell I'd ever allow that to happen on my watch.

With a sigh and one last glance at the clock, I tread over to my large walk-in closet the size of a small bedroom, and I make my way to the back--a place where I know no one will venture far enough into to notice the multiple skin-tight, black outfits I have hanging up.

I smile at the range of options I have: all black, all tight, all badass as hell. All of which give me the confidence to be Ghost Bird, a name I'd decided to call myself when I found out that, technically, I don't actually exist. Crazy, I know, but not as crazy as one might think once it's explained to them.

Basically, despite the fact that I'm an extremely well-known individual thanks to my father and our family name, there's no technical record of me.

I found this bombshell of information out one day when I'd wandered into my father's office looking for him. What I found instead was, like I said, a bombshell of information.

On his desk was a folder containing valuable information about myself that I didn't even know. Like, apparently, my real mother's name is--was--Sangria, which is where my name came from. She had only just turned 16 when she got pregnant with me and died during childbirth. But what's even crazier is that she was actually my father's cousin, which technically makes both of them my first cousins once removed.

My father had an affair with my mother while he was married to Karen, and I was born. But once my mother died, he never made a birth certificate for fear that his infidelity would ruin his reputation, so he just pretended Karen was my mother, and still does.

Or, well, I guess he did make one, but it was fake and he paid good money to make it look real. And since I've never gone to public school, the dentist, or the doctor for a check-up--which I always thought was strange growing up--there's no public record of me. All there is are posts on social media with me in it, but they don't contain enough of my information to he credible. All they really have is my first and last name, which technically aren't even mine, as I was never legally or officially given them.

So, long story short, I'm a ghost. And the bird part? Well, I guess I just liked it.

With another sigh and a shake of my head to rid it of its heavy thoughts, I go for a pair of black jeans that are slightly stretchy, as I want to be able to maneuver easily. And I also throw on a black tank top with my favorite leather jacket over it, pairing my outfit with a pair of black leather boots that reach my mid-calf.

My outfit is comfortable, but also serves its purpose perfectly, I'd say. Giving myself a once-over in my closest mirror, I award myself with a little nod and leave to my bathroom.

Once in there, I take off my glasses, blinking rapidly at the sudden blurriness that consumes my vision, and pop in my blue contacts. Then, I put on my wig, throwing it into a ponytail to keep it out of my face and slip on the black mask that only covers the area around my eyes.

I look over my bathroom counter and spot something sitting in the corner, probably still there from last night at my father's banquet, which honestly feels like a million years ago at this point. It must've just been forgotten, though Sylvia never even used it on me.