Burn Bright ( An Adopted By The Yogscast Story)

Chapter 1- You Can't Pick Your Family

I sat on my bed, a book in my hands. It was an interesting book, but I wasn't paying attention to the budding romance of Romeo and Juliet. I didn't understand it anyway. I was busy doing something else, listening. I was listening to the bickering of my too-large family who were all downstairs in our too-large house. They were arguing, as usual. Maybe my sister had finally been caught with one of her numerous boyfriends. Or maybe my parents had finally found my older brother's stash of porn magazines. It's not like he's hiding them. Finally the arguing stopped, and I heard a door slam. I heard our minivan start and pull out of the driveway. I got up and looked out the window just in time to watch as my entire family, that is, my brother, my two sisters, my mum, my dad, and my old aunt, drove off into the night. I went downstairs. Wherever they were going, they could've at least asked me if I'd wanted to come. I would've said no, or shaken my head rather, but it still would've been nice. At least they left a note this time.

Ember, gone for dinner. You're in charge.

Aunt Emery

I laughed, which is what you're supposed to do if something's funny, but my laugh was silent as usual. I guess this was funny. But who was I going to be in charge of? My ghost cat? I'm allergic to cats! My watch beeped. I looked down, trying to remember what I'd set the alarm for. I shrugged and went back upstairs. I didn't have a phone, no one had ever thought to ask if I'd wanted, or needed, one. I glanced at my keyboard, standing innocently against my wall. Oh, that's what my alarm was for. I needed to practice for...for...something. Probably just for no reason. I sat in the chair and played Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star to warm up. After that, I just played random songs so that I would always remember them. I never needed sheet music, because I could just hear which notes to play. I could hear the song only twice and automatically be able to play it by memory. I could read sheet music easily; I just never needed it. A gift, I suppose. Likely to make up for my inability to speak. I could talk fine by myself, but in front of people, my jaw just didn't want to move. It had always been like that, and I had gotten used to it. In fact, the only thing I ever used my voice for was singing. And only alone. Only when I was absolutely sure I was alone would my voice work. I stopped practicing when I saw what time it was, 3:00 am. How had I managed to waste so much time? I turned my keyboard off and silently got ready for bed. A normal person would be grumpy tomorrow morning from lack of sleep. I'm not normal, chances are I'll just take a longer nap than usual. Yes, I take naps. I have nothing better to do after school. I get my homework done before I even leave the classroom usually. I had just gotten into the bed and my finger was a centimeter away from my lamp when I heard three very loud knocks. I sat up. Who would be knocking at this hour? Or maybe Dad forgot his keys? But why would they be back so late? Either way, I went downstairs. I peeked through the peep-hole. I saw the shining badge and the uniform that meant 'cop'. I opened the door and put a confused look on my face. I'd given up on trying to learn sign language years ago. The cop began talking.
"Are you Ember Grace?" he asked. I nodded.
"I'm sorry to inform you that at 8:00 tonight, your family's minivan was involved in a fatal car crash. No one survived." The cop looked at me, searching for any sign of sadness or despair.
"I'm sorry for your loss." he said softly. I stared at him. What loss? I never had anything to begin with. I nodded.
"You'll be sent to the Bristol City Orphanage after the funeral," he said sadly, "A social worker will be over in about ten minutes. She will stay with you until you are sent to the orphanage." Why was he sad? His family wasn't the one killed. Mine was. I felt the tingling feeling that always appeared when I was supposed to be feeling something, but, as usual, I couldn't feel it. I nodded and opened the door wider to let him come in. He entered and I flipped the light on. I led him to the kitchen and grabbed a whiteboard. 'Would you like some tea?' I wrote. He took a moment to read it, then shook his head.
"Thank you for the offer, though." he said, almost as if he'd just realized that I hadn't said anything the entire five minutes he'd been here. The social worker arrived a few moments later, and knocked softly. I opened the door and welcomed her in silently. She apologized for my loss and I got the tingly feeling again. I listened as she had a brief conversation with the cop. I nodded a goodbye as he left. I shut the door behind him and used the whiteboard to offer some tea.

"Some tea would be lovely." she replied sweetly. I nodded and started the tea brewer.
"My name's Zia Kolinski. What's yours?" she asked. I grabbed the whiteboard. 'Ember Grace' I scrawled. She read it and nodded. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I just wish it were under different circumstances." she said sadly. I shrugged. I got two mugs put and poured the tea. 'Sugar?' I wrote, adding a question mark after a moment of thought. I showed it to her and she nodded. I let her add the sugar and the milk to hers. I didn't add either and sipped at my tea.
"I think you might want to start packing. Anything you don't want, just leave here. Your family owned this place, so you can come back whenever you like. It's all yours now." she said kindly. I nodded, and finished my tea. She took longer to drink hers than I did, so I wrote down the directions to my room on the whiteboard and laid it on the table. I went upstairs, trailing my finger along the railing. I entered my room and stood in the doorway. What would I take? What should I take? I packed seven sets of clothing, which consisted of random tee-shirts, my only hoodie, and several different pairs of jeans. I also packed my only stuffed animal, a penguin with huge eyes. It was basically my best friend, since I couldn't communicate with anyone else. I added my keyboard and my binder of music sheets to the pile. I couldn't draw worth crap, so I left my drawing materials behind. I grabbed my old mp3 player and my seven pairs of ear buds. My sisters gave me their old pairs whenever they got new ones, which was more often than not. I threw all of that in a bag and looked around again. I grabbed my CD book, which was crammed full of CDs that no one ever listened to. Zia came up a few minutes later and found me laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling as I often did. She looked at my small pile.

"That's it?" she asked, astonished. I looked at her and nodded. She had brought the whiteboard with her and I gently took it from her. I laid it in its place next to my lamp and went into the spare room. The spare bedroom was nicer than mine, which I found ironic. I led her into the room and gestured to the bed, then to her.

"You want me to sleep in here?" she guessed. I nodded.
"Thank you, that's very kind." she said nicely. I nodded and went back to my room and grabbed the whiteboard. I uncapped the marker and started writing. 'I'm going to bed, what time should I get up tomorrow?' I wrote. She read the note and looked at her watch.

"I'll set my alarm for eleven o'clock. That will give us time to get ready for the funeral. Do you have anyone you want to invite?" she asked. I thought for a moment, then ran downstairs and rummaged around in my parents' desk. I found a small address book and took it. I went back upstairs. 'Everyone on that list was a friend of theirs. Invite them.' I wrote. She flipped through the pages.

"Okay, I guess. Thanks. I suppose you've had a long night. Get some sleep, Ember. Tomorrow's gonna be tough." she said kindly. I nodded and went to my room. I clicked off the light and the tingling feeling came back. My body started reacting to something I couldn't truly feel. Or couldn't understand. I started crying silently. I guess my body was reacting to sadness, even if I wasn't telling it to. I rolled over and tried to sleep through the tears that wouldn't stop streaming from my eyes.