Miracle Child.

Chapter one.

CHAPTER ONE

Adrenaline made my heart thump vigorously against my tight ribcage, my body shaking with the utmost excitement as I heard the familiar rattling of the cage I was about to step into. Bouncing from foot to foot, I bid all the negative thoughts in my head away. I was ready.

The crowd roared with every step I took, the lights got brighter and I buzzed with confidence as I got closer to the steps that would soon lead me to my victory. I could clearly see my opponent crouching in the far corner of the cage his coaches trying to get him hyped but he knew that defeat was sure to come. My footsteps matched the rhythm of my thumping heart as I climbed up the stairs and onto the elevated platform covered in mats, designed to break the falls that made up this whole sport.

"You can do this Cassandra!" the unmistakable voice of my coach sounded behind me, informing me of something I already knew.

At the mention of my name, my opponent whipped his head around and straightened from his previous crouching position, his posture screamed surprise and with the way his hands were shaking, I would say fear. Standing before me was the man id learned to loath, to despise. The man who made it his job to ruin my life, yet now it was time to show him that I ran things around here, he had messed, or well tried to mess, with the wrong person. Everyone in New York City knew that I was lethal, a weapon of mass destruction in disguise. It was his turn to find that out, the hard way.

Nathaniel woods, after I'm done with you; you won't know what hit you.

People usually came to New York City to experience all the clichés that are portrayed in movies. They come here for all the wrong reasons. To some, getting used to walking among the waves of people in the streets of New York was a task hard to achieve. It's nerve-wrecking and outright scary. To me, it was as easy as blinking; it came naturally to me. After all I had been practicing since I was eleven years of age. I was born and brought up here; I knew these streets like the back of my hand. I could draw a map of the area I was in within minutes.

I know it's strange, but nothing was normal when it came to me. I was never handed what I want, I had to work for my necessities, and my needs. By the age of 11, I could cook, clean, and even had a job. Its Bizarre I know, but it is what it is. My parents were never home, and when I say never home I don't mean they skipped a few family dinners on Sundays or left for work without saying goodbye every morning. I mean that one day I woke up, on my 8th birthday to suitcases by the door, and no it wasn't the 'were going on a vacation!' kind of luggage, it was 'were moving to another house' type of luggage, since that day I was left in the care of a frantic nanny who couldn't believe she practically had to raise a child 24 hours a day seven days a week. My parents continued to pay her sending her barely enough money for us to live by every month. She too left me, on my 11th birthday; I had yet again woken up to the slamming of the front door. I watched her drive out the driveway leaving nothing behind but a yellow sticky note taped to the ratty old refrigerator, merely saying:

'Dear Cassandra,
I'm sorry I had to leave like this but I have a family of my own to take care of, you're an amazing child and one day this world will do you justice, and give you the happy life you deserve. I know the owner of the wal-mart branch near the house, I spoke to him and he is more than willing to keep an eye on you and give you an easy, good paying job so you could stay alive. Please don't hate me; I had no choice but to leave

Love,

Bethany.'

I knew in my young, empty heart that I couldn't hate her. She gave up her life to take care of me, her note left me somewhat hopeful, but what I didn't know at the time, was that hope never lasted. Looking back at it now, I wish id realized that sooner.