PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 5
For the next week, as we went daily to paint the house, I watched both my mother's and sister's behaviour around Damian. I already knew what he and Mama were doing. But my suspicions flew into high gear when it came to Celeste. Something was telling me that what was between them wasn't merely a fourteen-year-old's crush. I felt sick at the thought, but there was no denying it. I trusted my feelings far too well. I knew that should I ask Celeste, I wouldn't get anything out of her. My sister was never one to confide in me. She definitely wouldn't say anything to me about this. I knew that even if my suspicions were true, she'd merely deny them and my prodding would be a waste of breath. So, I decided to confront Damian. I waited in the back room that sunny spring day. He had left his shoes back there, so I waited on the stairway that lead up to the two bedrooms that had once been an attack. Finally, he came back there to get his shoes. I quickly pulled him by the arm and up the stairs. He didn't fight me but walked behind me, confused. We got into the first room, what was to be Celeste's room. The afternoon sun came shining through the window to send patterns playing across the floor, the trees just outside making the shadows on the carpet dance. Pieces of dust floated about in the brilliant light that shined through the window. I left him standing at the top of the stairs, beside the long closet. I walked towards the large three windows with my arms crossed under my breasts. I didn't know where to begin. How did one ask one's friend if they were having a sexual affair with their sister? It was difficult to swallow and I instinctively reached up and wrapped one of my hands nervously about my throat. Finally, the words floated from my lips, as if they had been caged up in my heart for too long and had finally broke free. "I know that you and Mama have been having an affair, Damian," I began, still staring out the window. "It disgusts me in ways that no words in the world can express, but I suppose anyone can fall for Mama's charms. Just thought that my own friend was above that. The thought of you two never bothered me before we formed this friendship." "Yes, Phoenix, we have been having an affair. I'm sorry that it bothers you so much. I'll put a stop to it if you want. I just couldn't help it. She offered and� Oh, forget it. I'm not going to make excuses for myself," he muttered. "I don't need confirmation on what I already know, Damian. I need information about what I don't know and what I truly fear." I felt anger building up in me like a campfire out of control. I spun around to stare at him as I threw out my interrogation. "What is going on between you and Celeste? Why is she so jealous of me? And what makes her so attached to you?" I could tell by how pale he suddenly became that my worst fears were, in fact, the truth. I felt the tears of disappointment choke me and burn my eyes. I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. "Okay," I choked out hoarsely. "Okay, then. If that is how it is going to be. If this is how it is going to be, then you are no friend, Damian. You are no better than any other man alive and not worthy for even my friendship." I took a deep breath, trying to collect myself. It was a vain attempt. My voice still shook as I spoke. "To have an affair with my mother is one thing, but my sister as well? How could you do something like that?" I shook my head, the anger raging through my veins. "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know what you were thinking." I past him and went down the stairs without so much as a backwards glance at him. My heart felt heavy. It was my fault that I had allowed myself to befriend him, but I wouldn't let this get to me. I wouldn't be friends with someone that pigheaded. No way. Damian stayed away after that day. I knew Mama blamed me. She knew that I had said something to him and I could only assume that he had told her. But she had no idea about the Celeste situation. I think that maybe I could have forgiven him for the affair with Mama, but not with my little sister. That had me far more sickened. Mama and I finished moving boxes over to the house during the week when all of my siblings were in school. It was hard because of the silent treatment she was giving me. She refused to look my way unless she absolutely had to. I couldn't understand her anger at me! She had no right! I was upset about her ignoring me, but I was angry that she had the nerve to be mad with me. I decided to confront her on it as we moved the last few boxes into the living room of our new house. I set the box I had cradling in my arms and stood up. She had just walked into the living room from the kitchen and I stood there, staring at her. She was annoyed and tried to pass me, but I blocked the doorway. "I don't have time for games, Phoenix." She tried to shove me out of her way, but I stood my ground. "Stop ignoring me, Mother!" I reached behind me to hold the screen door shut so she couldn't push me out it. "I'm not ignoring you. I have a lot to do to get us moved in here. Now move!" She made yet another attempt to move me. "No! I won't move! I confronted him because I had to, Mama; it's not my fault that he decided to stop coming around you. Don't you think it is for the better, anyway?" I was hurt by the fact that she could be angrier with me than with him. Then I had to stop and remind myself that she had no idea about Celeste. My lips itched to just spit the truth out to her. Why couldn't she see what I saw? "Phoenix, please!" Tears shone in her eyes, the misery was all too plain in the depths of them. "It's not just because he has stopped coming around me. He put a stop to the affair not too long ago." "Then what's wrong?" My heart pounded in anticipation. What was she about to tell me? I felt almost faint with expectation. "I'm pregnant, Phoenix and is most certainly not by your father." Her announcement was made with not only sadness, but with fear as well. I felt the same feelings come crashing down around me. My eyes widened. "Are� are you sure?" I was trying to hold my cool, wanting to comfort her and assure her that everything would be fine. I didn't have enough confidence to tell her that. I felt as if my lungs had collapsed and I waited for my heart to just stop beating. "I'm positive. It's why I couldn't talk to you. I know that you are already disappointed in me, but this would just make it worse." Finally, she let the tears fall from her eyes. "I never thought it would be like this with Michael! Never!" "We'll just have to cover it up," I announced. I had no idea how I was going to help her with this, but I decided that I had to. "Is there any way it could be Dad's? I mean, technically, that way he wouldn't think anything of it." To my horror, she shook her head. "We haven't had sex for three months. He refuses to lay a finger on me." "I'll find a way to get you out of this, Mama, I promise that I will." My disgust and anger at her seemed to just evaporate right there. All of it flying back into the oblivion, just waiting for another moment when it would come back and let me use it as my fire to give somebody a tongue lashing they'd never forget. Mama was one month pregnant that April; that gave me a few months before I decided on a course of action. When I finally decided, I did so nervously. How was I going to do this? How would I put my plan together and come out the same kind of strong and respectful person that I had been before? Would I lose all of my dignity just for her? The answer was all too obvious. I loved my mother dearly and I would do anything for her, no matter what the cost. Finally, a month later, in mid-May, I told my mother what I had planned. "Mama, I'll be pregnant for you." At first she looked at me confused, not quite understanding. I took a deep breath and made my explanation. "By the time the baby is born, I will be sixteen, old enough to take care of the baby. Not that anyone will know. You will run away, go live with a friend somewhere until the baby is born. I will go live somewhere, also, until the baby is born. I'll pretend that I'm the pregnant one." "Oh, no, Phoenix, I could never allow you to do that!" she cried, sitting down on the couch slowly. "You have no choice, Mama. Eventually, you'll come back and beg his forgiveness for leaving him and he will forgive you." "What about you?" she asked. "I will come back, but I will come back months after you and with a baby." I was scared to death. How would I be able to become the mother of my own younger half-sister? I wasn't even sixteen yet! "I'll leave before you, leaving a note declaring that I am pregnant and that I had to leave rather than disgrace the family." I thought for a second and then added, "I'll keep you informed through emails somehow where I am, that way you can run right when you start showing. I'm guessing that you can stay here until about your sixth month. Then you can come to me wherever I am." She nodded slowly. "I don't want to burden you with this child, Phoenix. I can handle your father." "No! Mama! You know he'd kill you!" I cried. He would kill her. "Then he'd go to jail and we'd all be separated and put into foster care. You know it's true!" Her bottom lip trembled. She knew it was true. Then she nodded again, only this time more vigorously. "All right, but I'll know where you are." I looked at her, my turn to be confused. "You can go stay with some relatives of your father's. They'd never tell; they hate him. He is your great-uncle and his young wife is my very own cousin, Ella Marie Stanhope Benson Parish. She's been married a couple of times. She is not much older than I am, though. Much younger than your father's uncle. You'll be well taken care of there. I'll explain the entire situation to Ella." She seemed more comfortable with the idea the more she thought about it. "But," she began, "I won't let you leave this house for another month! We have time before you have to go and I don't want you to go just yet. You're really the only person I can trust or rely on." She sighed and then rose to her feet. "I guess I'd better go call Ella and tell her what to expect." She left me standing there in the living room, my knees shaking and my stomach doing flip-flops. What had I gotten myself into? I tossed and turned in bed that night. Fortunately, I was no longer sharing a room with anyone else; they would have been just as restless as me. My bed made an annoying squeak with every move I made. The thought that I had just volunteered to become a mother just didn't sit well with me. How could I do this? Fear and nervousness sat in the pit of my stomach, which was doing as many flip-flops as I was. Mama was happier the next day; she was whistling and throwing smiles my way. She had become rather happy about our plan. When I asked her about how well she had slept the night before, her only answer was "Fantastic! I haven't slept so great in weeks. Why do you ask?" I never answered her. I just left the room. She held none of the trepidation in her eyes or her heart that I had witnessed yesterday when I had proposed the plan. She looked more content than she had in a long time. No wonder, I thought to myself, she's getting out of her own mistake. For the millionth time, I thought to myself, what am I doing? Why am I taking on her responsibilities? How could I do this? I blocked the thoughts out. After all, I thought, on the bright side I would get out of here and away from my father. I had promised myself long ago that I would get away from him, no matter what it took. I couldn't back out now. I wouldn't back out now. The most miserable thought that I had in my mind, though, was the thought that my mother was happy that she could so easily push off her mistakes on me. What would she do once I was no longer there for her to do so? Sometimes I wished the worst for her; she could be so heartless and conceited. Other times I was confused because I loved her so much that I felt guilty for thinking anything bad about her. Nobody in the family knew of our plan. Only Mama, my father's family that would let Mama and me live with them, and I knew. That meant Celeste would assume me to be really pregnant. For some reason I wanted to assure her that Damian and I had merely been friends. I wanted to be able to explain what we were doing. I didn't understand because she had never been anything but cruel to me. But I could tell that she had really cared about Damian and the thought that I may have been with him would drive her crazy. I almost felt guilty about what we were going to make her believe. Funny, I thought, I felt like the Virgin Mary herself. After all, I was about to become a mother and I was still as innocent as the day I had been born. The thought gave me a chill up my spine. I had always known my family was different, I just never realised just how demented we were. And I was demented for doing this. "Carrying" my mother's child? Covering up her mistakes? What was I thinking? I must have gone completely insane. I was convinced that I had gone crazy when two weeks later the plane ticket to go to Los Angeles came in the mail. I sat in my room, staring at it. In just two more weeks I'd be flying down there. I would be swept into another home where I didn't know anyone. Fear made my heart pound heavily and the blood race through my veins. I was so confused and scared. My whole plan was to never tell anyone to their face. I was afraid that I couldn't get the words out. But one day when Celeste was looking for something in my room, she found the plane ticket that I had stashed in my dresser drawer. She came down the stairs and onto the front porch and thrust the ticket into my face. "What is this?" she demanded. Her eyes were glittering with suspicion. I knew that I had to tell her, now. I would leave a note for everyone else, but I would tell Celeste. "I am going away, Celeste," I told her. I waited for her to demand why and where I was going. I didn't have to wait long. "Why? Is there something wrong with you? Where are you going?" "To visit some people that I know. I'm pregnant, Celeste." Her face paled and I thought her heart had completely stopped beating. "By who?" She was trying vainly to keep her voice steady. She knew, though. She knew what I was going to say before I said it. Still, it was difficult to get the words out of my throat. "Damian," I choked. With that one word, that one name I saw my sister's complete life go out of her. She had cared for him so much and yet she had never actually known him. She shook her head, the tears shined in her eyes. "NO!" she screeched and ran into the house. Mama and Lila came out of Mama's bedroom. They were the only others home. They came out just in time for Mama to grab Celeste who had gone into the kitchen and grabbed and a knife and was attempting to cut her wrist open. "What is going on?!" Mama cried. She had ripped the knife from Celeste's hand, but was having a hard time restraining her. I quickly helped by getting in back of Celeste and wrapping my arms around her entire body. Both of us were a good five feet eight; being the same height had its advantages, and this was one of them. "I wanna die! I wanna die!" she moaned over and over, trying to fight me. I held her tightly as she wiggled and bit and did everything. Within the next hour my mother had her committed into the local mental institution. It's what Celeste truly needed, as sad as it was. My father didn't understand what was going on but, to my surprise, he accepted what was. I was shocked, but didn't tell him so. In fact, my last week there I barely even looked at him and I couldn't help feeling relieved that I was at least escaping him. Once I left I never wanted to come back. I just couldn't help but wonder what I was going to do with my mother's child! I eventually stopped thinking about it for the moment. I still had a few months left to worry. The baby wouldn't be born until December. I didn't see Celeste again before I boarded the plane and left. I had left a simple note to everyone saying that I was pregnant and I would be leaving so I would not disgrace the family. Everyone would be shocked. My mother was a fantastic actress and would be able to play her part well; that I was sure about. The flight was short and when the plane landed, the nervous pitter-patter in the pit of my stomach worsened. I didn't know these people I would be living with, family or not. I wasn't sure if they would like me, or accept me. I didn't know what to expect. But what I set my eyes on shocked me more than anything. There stood two people, a tall older man in what appeared to be a chauffeur uniform and a shorter strawberry blonde woman in a dark violet three-piece suit stood next to him. The man held up a sign with the name Phoenix sprawled across it. Though the sign was obviously not needed. The moment the woman saw me her face paled and her hand flew to her neck as if she were trying not to choke on something. She waved me over to them and quickly went. She looked me up and then down with her soft, almond shaped golden brown eyes. She bit her lower lip, which was much fuller than the top. Soft patches of freckles covered her small nose and her cheeks. She nodded to herself. Then she met my eyes. "You look just like her." "Who?" I asked, confused. I certainly didn't look Mama, so whom was she talking about? "Rachael. Your m - I mean your father's cousin." She smiled nervously. "I'm your mother's cousin, Ella. Pleasure to finally meet you. I am more than happy to welcome you into my home!" She clapped her hands together and held them covering her mouth and nose as she peered at me over her fingers. She sighed. "This is going to be great having you home. At my home!" Ella was strange, but there was something kind about her that made me smile and feel slightly less nervous than before. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. We were led out by the chauffeur, whose name, I found out on the way outside, was Carl. The long, luxurious, creamy white limousine sat parked outside with the windows darkly tinted. How could this part of the family be so rich and my family so poor? It confused me, but I tried not to think about it as I climbed in slowly, looking around at the interior that was violet. Purple must be her favourite colour, I thought. As if she was reading my mind, she quickly spoke. "This is my very own limousine. I love the cream colour and the soft violet. It's just so beautiful! I had the entire thing painted and decorated to my liking, just like everything in our home. I do hope you enjoy the way I had your room set up and decorated!" There was excitement in those beautiful golden eyes, as if she hadn't been this excited in years. At last I could bring something to someone's life, I thought bitterly. "And just wait until you see the house!" she babbled on. "It's so grand! Oh, I just know you'll love it! I was so shocked to see it the very first time; after all, my mother and I didn't have any money when we moved in to this grand home!" She sighed and stared out the window. I waited anxiously to see this grand home that she spoke so highly about. And what a house it turned out to be! We had twisted and turned so many corners, I was sure that civilisation was miles and miles away, but no wonder. My grandfather, according to Ella, owned many, many acres of land. But the house that sat on the very edge of that land with the sea as its backdrop was miraculous. It was a pink-peach colour with white trimming. There were so many windows all over, as if you had to be able to see out of every room. Four great, white columns stood at the front of the house where the giant oak doors stood with their brass knockers and doorknobs. The steps up the front were white but there was a pink-peach carpet that was right in the centre of the stairs. My eyes widened at the sight. Never in my life had I witnessed a house so large! How could I ever call this place my home? Would it be possible? Only time would tell. Ella led me into the house, walking up the carpet as if it were actually normal to have a carpet out of your house like you were royalty. Of course, I reminded myself, it was normal to her. I had a silly fear about walking on that carpet. I just didn't feel as if my feet were clean enough to do so. What if I got something on it? Ella turned at the top of the steps, her hands on her hips. "Well? Are you coming or not?" She smiled brightly. "Come on, Phoenix, no need to be scared. Once your parents were very accustomed to this sort of life, just as all of their children should have been." I nodded and followed her up. A butler opened the door, as if he had been peering out one of the two side windows that were on either side of the doors. He opened both doors dramatically and smiled. "Welcome home, Madame." He made it seem as if Ella had been gone for a long time, and not just a couple of hours going to get her niece, and not to mention, step-granddaughter. The entry hall to the house was immaculate and beautiful. I couldn't begin to imagine what the rest of the house looked like. The floor was a golden brown marble. It matched the colour of Ella's eyes. Huge columns painted gold, or maybe they were real, went up to the high, domed ceiling. A chandelier hung from the top and cast light about the room, giving it even more of a dramatic effect. The domed ceiling was glass and you could see the sky outside of it. It was beyond beautiful! There was a grand staircase that was also made of marble, but down the centre of both sets of stairs were golden carpets. I felt as if I had entered some grand hotel. Ella seemed to enjoy my reaction and smiled brightly at me. "Isn't it wonderful?" she cried excitedly. "Come now, I have to show you the rest of the house!" House? I thought to myself. This was no house. This was a modern day castle! She led me through a door to the left of the front doors. We entered a long hallway that was only dimly lit by sconces on the walls at every other picture. There were huge pictures of old family members on the walls, all the way down. The walls were dark blue with wood trim and the floor was hard wood. The sounds of our footsteps echoed down the hall. I would soon learn that most of the house was dark and almost gloomy. There were shadows in every corner, as if ghosts were lurking there just waiting to jump out and frighten you to death. Ella told me that my great uncle didn't like the light much and so she made sure that everywhere that he usually was in the house was dark. She gave me a quick glimpse of his office, but I barely saw anything other than the dark, mahogany desk. We passed quickly down the hallway. "That hall has given me the creeps ever since I first moved here," she explained. When we came out of the hall, we entered the first parlour, which was bigger and brighter. "Your uncle hardly ever spends any time in here." The room was painted a soft light blue and cream-coloured curtains graced the large bay windows that looked out over a beautiful garden. There was a large, dark purple throw rug in the centre of the room. The floor itself was hard light oak. There was a fireplace in between the two large windows. The sofa and love seat were the same matching sapphire colour. A glass coffee table sat in between the two. There was a huge glass case that sat against the back wall and inside were many family photos and on the top shelf was a clock made of complete gold. The room held a certain comfort to it, and yet it was beautiful and glamorous all together. Most of the other rooms were much the same. When she led me into the dining room, I was stunned by the size of it, not to mention the glamour of it. The family dining room had a table that seated up to twenty-five people! It was made out of dark oak and it filled up half the room. The tables were all made of the same dark oak and they all were high-backed chairs. The backs of the chairs had a pretty, vine sort of design on them and the seats of the chairs had soft, plush blood-red velvet cushions on them trimmed with gold. The walls of the room were made of the same colour of the cushions, and were also trimmed with gold. Through a door on the other side of the room, Ella led me into the grand dining room that was used for parties. There were six tables much like the one in the family dining room, and every one of them held up to forty-five people! I couldn't imagine knowing that many people! Yet Ella informed me that during every party, the entire dining room was filled, and sometimes there were even more tables set out! This dining room looked like the family dining room, but instead of red with gold, it was blue with white. Through a door on the other side of the room, Ella led me into the grand dining room that was used for parties. There were six tables much like the one in the family dining room, and every one of them held up to forty-five people! I couldn't imagine knowing that many people! Yet Ella informed me that during every party, the entire dining room was filled, and sometimes there were even more tables set out! This dining room looked like the family dining room, but instead of red with gold, it was blue with white. Right through another door in the grand dining room was the ballroom. It was magnificent! The floor was light, cream-coloured marble and the walls were pale peach trimmed with white. On the far side of the room, there were no wall; only giant windows that reached the ceiling and looked out over part of the garden where three fountains stood, the sunlight sparkling through the water spouting from them. Three large chandeliers hung from the ceiling from one end of the room, the centre of the room, to the other end of the room. I turned around to look at Ella. "I can't believe all of this. It's just so beautiful. How can I ever call such a giant, glamorous place my home?" She laughed. "You haven't even seen your rooms yet! I'm glad you've enjoyed the tour of the bottom half of the house. Let's go view the top." She led me to a short hallway and to a door that I wouldn't have seen. "This door leads up to the top half of the house. It's a very narrow stairway and not many people know of it. The first owner of the house had it built for his secret rendezvous. Since it is well hidden, not many people notice it when they are going from here to the back door that leads to the garden at the of this hall. Nobody would ever think anything of I; should anyone come back here, they would merely assume they were going to the garden. But this was built for the purpose of meeting upstairs. Anyone that was having an affair with him at the time knew of the door," she explained as we went up the stairs. So my ancestors were cheaters. Go figure, I thought glumly to myself. We reached the top of the stairs and came out another door that was closer to the hall. At the end of the hall were two huge double dark oak doors. I noticed that farther down the hall, the doors were all white with gold trim. "Is that the master bedroom?" I asked curiously. "Yes. He purposely made sure that the stairs led closest to where he would be; that way it would be less likely that anyone would see them. He didn't know that his wife often used the stairway as well." She laughed. She quickly ushered me down the hall to the doors that would be mine. She threw them open with a big "voila!" and a smile. We walked in and my eyes tried to devour everything all at once. The bed was far too big for only me! The comforter was a dark rose colour. The pillows were a mix of rose, white and ivory. The bedroom floor was a myriad of those three colours as well. The walls were painted rose and trimmed with ivory. The four-poster bed was made of light oak. And everything in the rooms matched. The dresser and vanity table were both made of light oak and the brushes and such things were made of rose, white, or ivory. There were two windows each on either side of the bed. The curtains for each were white and not very heavy. All were pulled back and the windows were opened to allow air into the room. Yet the room had a distinctive smell to it, like roses and vanilla. I quickly asked about that. "Well, since I did the room with the colours I did, I also added a certain perfume to it. That being a rose / vanilla sort of scent. All of your bathroom products, such as your perfume, body wash, lotion and so on are of that scent." She smiled. "If you don't like it I can have everything changed." "No! I love it! It's all so beautiful!" I cried out. I walked over to the bed and sat down slowly on the edge. I was afraid that if I plopped down, it would all burst and I'd wake up back in my bed at home, waiting to be awakened by my screaming father. "It's really all mine." "Yes, including your very own sitting room!" She said with a smile, as she walked over to the door that was on my left wall. She opened it to reveal a sitting room with a rose-coloured carpet and walls. The soft chair and love seat were all the same matching ivory and in front of the fireplace there was a white, furry throw rug. "I love it all!" I told her. "I just can't believe I am here. I just wish I wasn't here under these sort of circumstances." "Me too. I wish my cousin were more responsible and you could be here, because this is where you belong, not because you are saving her." I looked at her. What she had said was so strange. "Where I belong?" I asked, confused. Already, I realised that Ella rarely ever made sense. Or at least she didn't make much sense to me. "Oh, forget it, dear," she said quickly, walking out of the room. Just before she shut the door, she faced me. "I do hope you enjoy your rooms. They are not far from my daughter Jenny's. Maybe the two of you will get along." The way she said it didn't seem very hopeful. It was more like she had said it out of duty. But I wanted to get along with Jenny! I wanted to get along well here; maybe they would let me stay and I wouldn't have to go back to that abusive place. "If you want you may take a nap before dinner, I'll wake you up an hour before we eat and pick out something for you to wear." With that, she left the room. I stood in the middle of the sitting room, and then made my way into the bedroom, where I sat on the bed. I thought that I was so exhausted that I would pass out before my head even hit the pillow. Yet, that wasn't to be true, for my overactive mind took control and I became more curious about my newfound, and obviously very rich, relatives. I had yet to meet my great-uncle and my cousin Jenny. Ella was a confusing woman who spoke of things that confused me, but wouldn't answer when I asked about them. What would the other two be like? I suddenly had the urge to get fresh air. I felt stifled and there was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep. I wanted to explore this house and become accustomed to it quickly. If this was to be my home, I didn't wish to be constantly lost in it. I rose off the bed and into the hallway. Even with servants buzzing about the house, it held an eerie silence. I padded down the soft blue carpeted hall. Somehow I managed to find my way down to a stairway. It didn't lead down into the entrance of the house, but it did lead down into another hallway, one that I had been shown. I went down there and I passed the small room that Ella had called the study. Nobody really spent any time in there unless they had some friends over, and then that was where the men went to smoke and drink after dinner, Ella had informed me. I walked down the hall a little bit more confidant about myself. It seemed big enough to get lost in, but it would be easier getting to know my new home than I had thought. I sighed with relief and walked a little faster. I should have been paying more attention, because I had just gotten into my new surroundings and I wasn't used to the rooms off to the sides of the hallway. Just as I was about to get to the parlour that led out into the garden, someone came out of a door off to the right and I tripped over him. Or more like I tripped over a wheelchair. "Are you all right?" the young man sitting in the chair asked as he held a hand down towards me to help me up. I ignored it and pushed myself to my feet. "I'm fine. I am sorry, I didn't mean to run into you. I should have been paying more attention." I felt like a complete dunce. How could I run over someone? He smiled at me. It was the friendliest smile I had ever seen. Chestnut hair fell over his brow and hung to almost to his shoulders, and bright blue eyes stared up at me curiously, but friendly. "I'm Mitchell Branch. Ella's crippled son." I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but he quickly stopped me with a wave of his hand. "I already know who you are, Phoenix. No need to introduce yourself, you're my cousin. Funny, I didn't know that I had any." "Oh. Well, then let me ask the first question that came into my mind when you introduced yourself." I never seemed to be able to shut myself up. I rambled on like an idiot until I realised what I was doing. It always happened that way when someone was friendly to me. "Why isn't your last name Parish like my great-uncle's?" "Because I am not his son and he refused to adopt some other man's child. I don't find it to be an insult, though. I couldn't care less about what that man thinks. He spends most of his time doting upon my lovely, spoiled rotten younger half-sister, his daughter Jenny." He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and then quickly changed the subject. "Where were you in such a hurry to, anyway?" "I was going out to the garden. I needed some fresh air, I feel so -" I thought for a moment " - suffocated by all of this." Why did it seem so easy to talk to this stranger? He was my cousin, but a stranger all the same. Yet, I felt comfortable enough to stand there talking to him. I didn't feel threatened by him at all. "I understand. I was only three years old when my father died and my mother married up with your great-uncle only three months later. The home we had lived in had been smaller by far. I had nightmares the first two weeks I was here." He wheeled himself alongside me as we made our way towards the garden. "How can you remember that far back?" I was astounded. I couldn't remember much of anything up until the age of eight. Of course, I probably had blocked out everything else. "Intelligence," he laughed. "I was always my mother's 'little old man'. I was always treated older than what I am and I just developed a sense of independence and maturity at a very young age." "I wish that were the only reason I feel so old," I muttered. Then that part of me that loved to keep everything about me well hidden started kicking me in the head. Why was I saying things that would start an open conversation about my life? He was a complete stranger! "I'll not pry. You have the look on your face as if you wished you hadn't said that, meaning you probably don't want to share your life story with me." He smiled. "It's quite all right. I'm just curious as to why you are here. Mother never informed me about why a dear unknown cousin was coming to stay with us for awhile." I took a deep breath and then related the story to him. The true story. I wanted to stop lying so badly and what was the danger of telling anyone the truth around here? After I was finished, he let out a low whistle. He thought for a moment, as he was trying to gather up the right words. "How could you even think about covering for your mother? She made the mistake of cheating on her husband, and yet here you are getting her out of her own mess." He was as blunt as I was, I thought bitterly. I preferred honesty from people, but he was slapping me in the face with harsh reality. I had thought much the same things that he had said, but hearing them from someone else made my head pound. "In all honesty I have no idea what I was thinking at the time. I almost backed out, but I have my reasons why I didn't." I took a deep breath and turned to go back into the house and into the safety of my new room, before I said too much of what I didn't really want to say. "I'm getting a bit tired. Nice meeting you, Mitchell." I quickly ran into the house. "It's Mitch!" I heard him call after me. I turned, waved and then quickly found my way back up my room, where I fell onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep, not giving myself time to think.
