Miracle Child.

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO 

I walked home that afternoon, after my 'oh so exciting' meeting with Mr. Ethan I'm so mysterious Woods. As I wavered my way around the streets of New York, I thought about what my life had come to. I got the few odd confused glances from the more observant civilians, I mean I was an eleven year old little girl wandering the streets alone with the determination and knowledge of a grown woman, if I were an observer I too would be awestruck.

My parents never sent me to proper school. They saw me as a waste of money and time, so enrolling me in a school was the last of their worries. However, I couldn’t help but be filled to the brim with curiosity as I watched little kids walking alongside their parents with little books in their hands, which I later discovered were story books. I couldn’t just sit by my window and watch as the world evolved around me and not even try to evolve as well. So I taught myself how to read and write at the age of 9, it was quite a world to get lost into really, the world of books and I couldn’t help but get this weird blood boiling feeling towards my parents for wanting to deprive me of such utopia.

God was on my side, as he allowed the extraordinary yet small shop to locate itself near the house I lived in. "Lillian's Bookstore" was a small bookstore near my house, despite its lack in size; it had all the books I needed as a child. I would go there every single day and stay for hours upon hours just reading, engrossing myself in what id missed growing up. I thought about the first day id entered the shop all alone;

The little bell on top of the transparent door rang announcing my arrival. I'd seen many kids my age enter this little place coming out with these things that seemed like a pile of papers neatly stacked together and held in place with a hard shell.

My tiny feet thudded against the fuzzy carpet that seemed to engulf my worn out sneakers. I did not acknowledge anyone else in the room, or the wonder struck gazes that burned holes into my fragile being. I myself was awestruck by the amount of those little piles of paper id seen many times with children. I made my way over to the shelves that showed off those things with all their glory. There were so many of them, it was like a whole other population, even though they didn’t exactly breathe. Each one felt different against my fingertips and I was instantly in love with every single one of them. I grabbed the one that attracted me the most; there was some sort of cursive drawing on the front, words. My heart got heavier in my chest, I couldn’t read them. I didn’t even know what the object in my hand was called.

"Excuse me miss," I begin to grab an elderly woman's attention although I didn’t need too hence she was already well aware of my existence, "What is this?" I raised the covered pile of paper in my hands.

She looked at me with a sad expression. She didn’t seem surprised at all; in fact she gave me a knowing, heartwarming smile. I couldn’t help but return the favor, even though it came out as more of a broken smile.

"That sweetie, is called a book" She didn’t say it mockingly, she didn’t say it angrily, she said it with the most genuine tone of voice that I wasn’t familiar with, and she smiled even though I saw the tears in her eyes.

That’s where everything started. I went to that bookstore everyday from then, Lillian, was the woman who told me what a book was. She taught me the alphabet and left me from there, she would let me come in everyday and read all the books I wanted to read. I was really good at it too; she had told me that I was a natural. By the age of 10 I knew science, math and could read and write really well. I had read all of Shakespeare and books along those lines, I know it seemed too hard for a ten year old but I had a passion for it. Lillian had been so proud of me, she saw me as a miracle but as always just when my life was starting to look up, things had to come crashing down;