OC story [PROLOGUE]

                                                                                                                                                           PROLOGUE                                                                                                                                                
Happiness never lasts as long as I used to think. Now everything I do is weighed down to see if it will shatter the thin sheet of happiness I have finally frozen into place, Just like the surface of a pond in the coldest of winters; if an ice skater treats it to harshly it will crack, letting him know a very, crule fate. I always thought my sheet of happiness was thick, still it seamed to dump me into cold, deathly black water easily somehow. And this is where it drowned me at the tender age of twelve, it was on an  Autumn day I seem to remember.

  The wind that blew orange and brown leaves rattled the frames of my window, as if in a horror film. The wind scares me, maybe it's because dad says the noise it makes is the dead speaking to us, screaming to bring them back to life. Or maybe it's the story of the witch who whistled, the whistle that sounded like wind, and it was the very same tune that was her most powerful curse and weaved terror in humans for the rest of their lives.
  In my entire childhood never have I laid eyes on a single child my age, or went to school or went shopping. My family has lived in this house for as long as I can remember, and to be truthful the forest surroundings have thoroughly been explored and continue to bring excitement to me no more. My life is drab to me now except for the afternoons when mom likes to watch tv, news mostly; to most children they would find this boring, for me though it's the only connection of the otside world I get. It seems from the bits of news I do understand, that the world outside the boundaries of the forest around our house is dangerous. Wars seem to forever be raging, and science has turned a new joint in the world, and politics aren't even as important as they used to be. But still we live in peace and comfort.
   
                                                                                                  After all those happy years, how could I expect it to continue that way?

  "Kian! I know what youv'e done and guess what!" my mum screamed from another room in the house, "This is it, over, get out now! We are through. You know I hate that woman, she drills mad ideas into your head, and you let them stay there! You actually listen to the crap she says?"
  "She tells the truth Evetta! You know she does.  You look at the proof every time your eyes see your daughters face! Or do you only look at the frail paper you wrap every surface in?" came my fathers heated reply, from his voice I could tell there was genuine earnestly. What could they be talking about?
  Now I was sitting on the carpet in my room, hands over my ears desperately trying to feebly block out the acussations  mum fired against dad was more than pointless; I cried a steady stream of tears silently. Never, in all my memories have my parent had a "real" argument.
  The last couple of days I could feel dads and mums tension build up steadily, now though mum couldn't take it any longer; she was as uncontrollable of her actions as a stampede of wild stallions let loose for the first time. Thirteen years ago they loved each other, now mum looked at dad as if she dispised him; how can hate bloom from a pure ivory rose? Until now I thought this was impossible, how terribly fate has proved me wrong though.
  "Get out," she repeated, still her voice rose ever higher "I will not have you accusing my daughter of such things! Your mother is senile and everything to do with this subject died a long time ago, with her sanity!"
  "Evetta you kick me out of this house and I will never come back!" He warned, "lila will grow up not knowing, uncertain of herself, you must let me help her! I know she will need me!"
  Then I understood, they were fighting about something to do with me, even though I was unconcious of what it was. No,that's wrong I  knew exactly what it was. I wasn't normal, cursed is what my mother often associated me with behind my back; dad called it a blessing though. I was born with hair like crisp, white snow and eyes purple like a violet, streaks of gold like a shooting star it travelled the expanse of a purple sky. Mum refused to believe I wasn't like a normal child, yet she refused to send me to school and treat me like one.
  They went silent. Soon I heard heavy footsteps marching throught the house, stopping outside my bedroom door for a brief second before they continued; the frontdoor slammed so hard I imagined its frame splintering to the ground.
  My dad was gone for good, I felt it in my bones back then; The only man who had ever been in my life was gone forever, I could tell. I was still like a statue, cold like one too; this was the first time the ice of fate had cracked under my wobbly skates, it wasn't the last time either I would soon find out.