Author's Note: So this is my new story. I am absolutely in love with this story and I hope you love it too.
WARNING - this story contains descriptions of parental abuse. If you have issues with this, please either skip ahead to the stars or leave this story alone. There will be other mentions of this topic throughout the book. Thank you.
This story is copyrighted, all rights reserved. Becca Ribeiro.
Chapter 1:
The loud streets of New York City were almost comforting. The bright sun shining down on thousands of loud business people and the sharp air around me has never ceased to amaze me.
I pulled my dingy bag further up my shoulder as I walked toward the one place in the world that still felt like home.
Years ago, I had a home and two loving parents but now, now I had no home.
Before long, the concrete jungle disappeared and nature began. A calmness fell over me as the fountain came into view.
I still remember the first time I escaped and ran away to the fountain. It was around midnight on the second of December. My twelfth birthday. The moon had shone eerily on the snow that covered the hard ground.
I had been adopted for eight months then. They seemed like the perfect replacement parents at first. Marc and Susanna Hastings were nice to me and had enough money to take care of me and their biological daughter, Lucy. She was a year and a half older than me and since the first day we met, she had hated me. She didn't understand why her parents had adopted me – and at the time neither did I – but she made it her goal to make my stay there miserable, which she accomplished easily.
The first six months were fine – great actually. Marc and Susanna were sweet and bought me lots of new clothes and furniture for my room. Every time the social worker came around to check on the family, I had nothing but good things to say about Marc and Susanna but I kept my mouth shut about Lucy. I was afraid that if anyone found out about Lucy’s obsession with hurting me, the social worker would drag me back to the orphanage kicking and screaming. Lucy had gotten a pocket knife from Marc for her birthday and made me into a human cutting board whenever she wanted. This time though, I was determined to hold onto my new family and never let go.
The day that the social worker sent her reference of approval to the judge, I was jumping for joy. Less than eight weeks later, the adoption process had been completed and my new family had begun to act a little different.
A week after I had been legally claimed as Charlotte Grey Hastings, the Hastings’ threw a party. I thought they threw the party because they were happy that I was finally their daughter but I was wrong, so wrong.
That night, after dozens of Marc and Susanna's friends had arrived, I headed up to my room because the downstairs had filled up with people who were laughing a little too loudly and smelled like alcohol. When I reached my room, I tried to push the door open but someone had locked it. Sighing, I turned and walked to the door that was directly across from my room.
“Lucy!” I called over the music that shook the floor. I banged my fist on her door. “Lucy!”
A moment later, Lucy's lithe body floated into the hallway, slamming her door shut after her. Lucy looked exactly like Susanna but acted a lot like Marc. Her long, bouncy golden curls reached her waist and her dark brown doe eyes glittered evilly in the low light. I shivered in fear as I stared up at her.
“Lucy,” I said, trying to put more confidence in voice so it wouldn't shake like my legs were, “I know you locked my door again. I'm really tired and I can't go to sleep downstairs today because mommy and daddy have their friends over. Can you please open my door?” I asked her.
Lucy shook her head gracefully and cocked her head to the side. “Do you really want to be my sister, Charlotte?” Lucy asked me quietly. I could barely hear her over the music.
I nodded my head, excitedly. Did she mean it? Did she really want to be my sister, finally after all this time? Maybe now she'll stop cutting my back and arms and I can finally stop lying to mommy and daddy!
Lucy gave me a smile filled with so much cruelty and evil that I flinched back from it. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“If you really want to be my sister, you have to go through everything I went through. Hope you last the night Charlotte. I'll see you tomorrow.” Lucy whispered as she shut the door on me, leaving me once again surrounded by darkness.
I pounded on her door a few more times but I was barely paying attention, focusing solely on what she had said. What did she mean? What had Lucy gone through? I had lost my parents so it couldn't have been worse than that, right? After a few minutes of sitting in front of Lucy’s door, I looked up at the clock in the hallway and noticed that it was well past midnight now. Downstairs, the music was getting quieter and the loud chatter from before was getting softer as well.
I headed down the staircase to see Marc and Susanna sitting in front of the coffee table laughing loudly with a group of five other people. There were two women who were dressed in small dresses that I scrunched my nose up at. The other three men looked similar to Marc and were wearing t-shirts and blue jeans. The rest of the people had already left.
I watched them laugh just a little too loudly to be normal before I pushed off the bottom step and walked closer to them.
“Mommy? Daddy?” I called.
Everyone's heads snapped toward me at the same time. I would have laughed at the sight if all of their eyes hadn't been filled with anger.
Marc and Susanna's eyes were red, puffy, and looked unfocused but the anger that sparkled underneath was as clear as day.
“What are you doing down here, Charlotte?” I winced at the hostility I thought I would never hear coming from my new fun and carefree dad.
“I'm sorry, Daddy. I got locked out of my room again,” I wrung my hands in front of me so I wouldn't have to look him in the eyes as I lied to him.
Marc scoffed and my eyes shot up to see him getting up from in front of the coffee table.
“You're always getting locked out of your room. What, are you stupid or something? Don't you know if you lock the door on the inside and leave, it stays locked? I'm sick and tired of your stupidity!” Marc growled at me.
That night, that shred of hope I held deep inside of me to have a family again was destroyed.
The next morning, I walked to the closest hospital which was a thirty minute walk away from the house. When I got there, I was bleeding and barely able to stand any longer and was taken to the E.R. immediately.
After I was treated, the staff asked how I had gotten hurt. I was going to tell them that Marc had kicked me until I couldn’t breathe and then held both of my arms down so Susanna could step on them and the same with my wrists and fingers. Right when I was going to tell them, Marc, Susanna, and Lucy darted into the room and stopped me.
They convinced the doctors and the rest of the staff that I had run away last night and that my injuries were probably from the escape and night on the street. They asked for a moment alone with me to make sure I was okay and for a moment, my heart soared. Maybe they did still care for me. Maybe last night was a mistake. I could forgive them; after all, we were a family.
When they turned around, all of their eyes held disgust and disdain.
Susanna walked over to my bed and pushed on the rib that Marc had broken last night, which got a gasp from me.
Through thinned lips, Susanna growled at me. “The next time you come to the hospital without permission, I will make sure that I break every bone in your body.”
I whimpered as fear coursed through my body. I nodded weakly to show her I understood.
When the doctors returned, I told them the story the Hastings had come up with and put on a fake smile when Lucy and Marc hugged me.
Every day, they would hit me and I wouldn't tell anyone. I was afraid for my life.
Marc liked to hit me, Susanna like to talk down to me until I felt lower than the dirt, while Lucy continued to cut me every chance she got.
Slowly, I became a shell of the person I used to be.
That night I snuck out of the Hastings’ home for my birthday. It was almost midnight when I slipped out of my window and ran.
I had joined the track team at school because all I wanted to do nowadays was run, and never stop. I wanted to run away from the Hastings. I wanted to run away from the beatings. I wanted to run away from my life.
So I ran through the darkness, the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the cement breaking through the semi-silence of the night. The hum of traffic in the background and my feet hitting the ground overwhelming my hearing.
At first, I didn’t know where I was running to, I just wanted to be away from the people that had slowly caused my sanity to crack.
After a few minutes, civilization started to thin until I came across a pathway lined with park benches and bare trees with glistening snow hanging off each branch and city hall directly behind me. I slowed down to a jog before stopping my run completely and taking in deep breaths of the sharp winter air.
In front of me, was a huge fountain that was dimly lit by the forged iron lamp posts that were placed scarcely around the open area.
The fountain was the focal point of the park. Once you stepped foot in the plaza, your eye was immediately drawn to it. It was huge with smaller jets positioned on each corner of the main part of the fountain that was shooting up into larger part. In the middle of the fountain, a smaller looking structure rose from the center with two small tiers of ceramic plates that the water bounced off of before falling back into the main part of the fountain. Above the highest tier, a beautiful black-colored column arose with an intricate gold-colored piece above it that reflected the moonlight beautifully.
At the sight of it alone, a calmness swept over me and for the first time since I had found out what the Hastings were really like, I felt happy.
A ghost of a smile etched it’s way onto my lips as I listened to the calming sound of the water trickling in the fountain. Underneath the moonlight, I felt like I finally belonged.
From that night on, every time I needed an escape from the Hastings I would wait until every head in that house hit the pillow before running away again to my safe haven. That was where I belonged.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
As I got closer to my haven, I saw a crowd of people huddled around the fountain clapping. Curious, I stepped into the crowd to see what was going on.
Peering around a pair of giggling girls close to my age, I saw two boys and two girls, who seemed to be around the ages of seventeen, standing along the edge of the fountain performing a song with their instruments.
The boy standing the furthest to the left had short, cropped blond hair that framed his face and brought out his shining sapphire eyes. He had an easy going smile on his light pink lips and when the girls began to dance in circles, he scrunched up his thin nose bemusedly. Resting on his broad shoulders, was a beautiful violin that was tuned perfectly to my ears and sparkled like a diamond in the sun. He was easily six feet tall. He was wearing a tight fitting black T-shirt with “Music is a world within itself, with a language we all understand. - Stevie Wonder” written in gold and red letters across the torso and a pair of straight legged jeans.
The girl next to the blond boy threw a smile over her shoulder at him and continued playing with a passion. Her instrument looked like a violin but just a bit bigger than the blond boy's and the timbre of her instrument was a bit different. She had a thin structure and only reached the blond boy's shoulders. Her light brown hair was thrown up messily in a bun atop her head with strands falling and framing her heart-shaped face. Her large brown eyes were the same color as her hair and shone with intelligence. Occasionally, she would close her eyes and it seemed as if she was almost floating along with the music. Her shoulders were bare and sun kissed with a natural tan with a white strapless dress that stopped a few inches above her knees that brought out a simple beauty in her.
The girl standing to her right looked exactly like her, except she wore bright and bold colors and lots of makeup. The girl to her right seemed a lot more carefree. She wore her long, light brown hair down with loose curls at the ends tickling her waist. Her eyes were outlined in thick black eyeliner and she had gold eyeshadow on her lids, which made her skin look even more tanned. She wore a white shirt with a plunging v-neck with a quote similar to the blonde boy's. In thick red font, her shirt had “Where words fail, MUSIC SPEAKS” written down the center with colorful music notes flying around the words. Her skin-tight, light wash cropped jeans went a few inches under her knees.
The last boy had shaggy hair that reached his chin, almost completely covering his deep blue-gray eyes. There were several different shades of blues and grays. His hair was a dark coffee color that could be considered black but in the sunlight, streaks of brown and red appeared. He had a strong jaw and angled features that gave off an air of danger but with the bright smile on his face as he stroked the bow across the cello's strings, he looked almost angelic.
They came to a point in the music where each instrument was screaming in joy and colors danced across my eyelids as they continued. I closed my eyes and saw the oranges and greens and yellows fighting for control before coming together and lighting the entire scene with an array of bright blues. The cello turned into a dark smoky color while the violin turned into almost translucent Columbia blue. The twin girls' violin-like instruments brought them together with a jade green color connecting all three points in the music. I breathed in the energy of the music, feeling like I was alive for the first time in years. The smile growing on my lips gave me a sense of contentment.
Opening my eyes again, I carefully watched the pattern at which the blonde boy moved the bow back and forth across the strings. The violin called to me more so than the other instruments.
Smiling softly at the happiness and contentment that seemed to take over my body, I watched closely. No longer staring at the blonde boy, I watched his hands moving agilely and the beautiful sounds that came from them. I watched and memorized the pattern, hoping that one day I could put my hands on a violin and try to make that kind of beautiful music.
Before I knew it, the hand had stopped moving and was now waving. I looked at the boy to see him and the rest bowing.
The boys set their instruments along the fountain and walked to the edge of the crowd with a hat to collect money for their performance. The girls walked after the boys, with their violin-like instruments in hand, talking softly to each other. My eyes focused in on the violin resting against the edge of the fountain. It seemed like fate. I was a strong believer in fate and everything happening for a reason. And that violin was there, waiting for me. I knew it.
My eyes flew back up to see the group moving slowly down the line. Watching them, I carefully stepped forward and headed toward the violin. I could almost hear it chanting my name, calling me.
I could here some people whispering about me, wondering what I was doing.
Quickly, I stepped forward and pulled the violin on my shoulder. It felt like a piece of me that I hadn't known was missing had suddenly been returned to me. Pulling the bow up to meet the violin, I pictured the boy's movement as I tentatively pushed the bow across the strings. When my ears were only met with colorful notes, I followed the same movements I saw the boy do more confidently until I could hear the same song coming from my hands.
Pride filled my stomach at the utter satisfaction that left me glowing. The world seemed brighter, less hopeless, just better.
Suddenly, a hand came down on my shoulder.
Author's Note:
Please, comment and tell me what you think. I am open to all criticism and if you think this is good, maybe some complements?
Vote, Comment, and Fan if you want to make me happy!
To the side, Mumford and Sons, The Cave. This song reminds me of Charlotte. Check it out. :P
Laugh as Much as You Breathe and Love as Much as You Live!
-Becca Ribeiro <3