Chapter 20 (Ommmmggggg)

Chapter twenty- Death comes first

          I ran, I ran, and I ran. I ran past the jolly singers, past the school gates, past the houses in Unicorn Way. I felt like my head was screaming, or was it in reality? Everything was spinning, and I could only hear the screams of pain, of shock, and of amazement.

          Then I saw it. Fire. Smoke. Coming out of my house.

          “No!” I shrieked. I almost fell to my knees.

          I saw crowds of people around my house, trying to put the fire out-but it was black fire. Water didn’t help, and I knew who it was cast by. I looked around in panic, trying to find my mother, or at least my sister-

          My face was burning in streaks, and anger welled up inside me. I had to get inside- I had to stop the screaming. I could hear them. I heard them wail in pain of them burning alive in the fire- I could see their faces in the black flames, and hear my father’s laughter.

          “Let them go! Please, don’t kill them!” I kept screaming and screaming. I can feel somebody pulling me back, and I struggled. I struggled like hell in fury. “Cant you see them? They’re burning! They’re burning in the fire, I have to help them!”  I sobbed.

          “Mary, you can’t be here! The headmaster is coming!”

          “No, no, no, no, NO!” I screamed, and kicked, and bit, and hit, but the arms did not let me go. So I looked up to the blackened sky, begging for him to stop the fire. “FATHER!”

          I gave up the struggle, and instead lay limp, the person now practically dragging me. I whimpered and sobbed, my heart torn in half. I knew it was too late, and I was now vulnerable. My sister… My mother… Perished into Ash…

          I realized I wasn’t moving. Nobody was moving. It was like everything was paused. Everyone was gazing at my house, now half burned, black fire going down into a tiny flickering flame.

          My father had listened.

          He is here.

          “Who is here?” Abby, I realized, was the one dragging me. She had tears in her eyes, and it had left pale streaks in the soot on her face. She never cried.

          I had not known I was speaking out loud.

          “My father.” I whimpered. At the same time along with Abby’s confused look, I heard a whoosh, and a gasp of fear followed by the crowd.

          I could feel his presence. With great effort, I looked up, and saw the man who I now knew was my father. He had a plain face, no emotion this time. Surely, he would kill me. Malistaire, my father, stood over me. He did one look at Abby, and she backed up in fear, despite leaving me.

          The people of the town were in a circle, my father and I in the middle. I was on the ground, too weak and heart-broken to get up, staring at my father with hate. He did not look at me.

          Everyone had heard my scream, my holler of “father.” Now, Malistaire was here, and he had ceased the fire. They may think of it as a coincidence, but I knew most knew better.

          “Ah, yes, I am here. Such a shock. Did you really think you could kill the Demon Fire?” His voice was deep, and cruel. I could not believe he was my father, but here he was.

          Nobody answered, and nobody moved.

          “Of course, I wouldn’t burn down the town of my beloved? Even still, it would be nice to remember this town by her lies.”

          He held a knife in his hand, covered in scarlet blood, with a glint of gold. He hid it behind his cloak, only visible to me. He slit my mother’s throat. I growled in hate, and he glanced at me in interest. I suddenly felt powerful.

          Others looked at each other, puzzled. Didn’t Sylvia die a long time ago? If I had the courage to speak, I would have screamed No. Even then, I felt my instincts tell me to stay quiet about the subject. I kept my mouth shut.

          “And, as my daughter here will soon recognize.” He waved to me simply, and a gasp of fright and shock overwhelmed the crowd. Yes, I am his daughter. “Sylvia’s second child from a different man is also, dead and into ashes, where they both belong.”

          Sabrina and my mother should have never been killed!

          I hissed, and he finally took one long gaze at me in the same interest. “What do you want with me?” He did not answer.

I grew more hatred. “It’s your entire fault, and now you’ve ruined my life. You are not my father. Nobody is my father. I have no family, because of you. You deserve to go to hell!”

He then laughed. “I thought you always wanted a father, dear child…”

“I did, but I didn’t want you.”

 He smirked. Then pulling out something out of his pocket, a maroon and gold box I recognized from my mother’s bedroom. It was a family heirloom- a music box.

He noticed my wide eyed look as he brushed off soot of the heirloom. “This, I am surprised she still had. Such memories.” He chuckles, and raised it high in the air, fingers white as snow. My skin. “This majestic music box, now worn out by now, of course, was my engagement gift to my wife.”

Nobody moved. It was silence. Discrimination against me, I knew that now.

Malistaire knelt down before me, tuffs of thick black hair falling out of his tight ponytail. “Do you know what’s inside this box?”

I glared at him. “Never seen it before in my life.” I lied.

He smiled, white teeth glinting in pleasure. “Whatever it is, it’s for you.” He fixated me with a serious glare this time. “And you’re going to tell me what’s in it.”

“Never!” I growled.

He returned to his horrid amused face, “If you don’t tell me,” he whispered, “The same thing will happen to your friends that happened to your mother and sister.”

Before I could respond, he suddenly looked up to something that was behind me. Others looked shocked at both my words from before, and the person who approached Malistaire.

“Leave us, Malistaire. You have done enough harm to this young girl, you can’t possibly do more.” The Headmaster had strong anger in his voice.

Malistaire only chuckled. “You call Mary Ravengem a young girl? You speak of her like she is just a mere child. Foolish man, she is my daughter. And she.” He glanced at me. “Has what I want.”

“And what, Malistaire, is that?” The Headmaster challenged.

Malistaire merely smirked, put his hand on a knife with symbols on its handle in his cloak completely, and then shook his head as though saying not now. I saw a glint of red and gold, blood on the knife. I knew… I just knew he slit their throats with that very knife- but what was the gold?

He, with a swish of his midnight cloak, disappeared.

And I was left with the ashes and blood of my family, the newly found discrimination from the world, and homeless.

But that’s not the worst part.

I was alone.