W is for Weird (and Witch)

I never would have thought that i was important, or special in anyway. Never would I have thought that I might have a part in saving the world. I knew i was diffrent from other kids, weird. Yet never, ever would I have thought 'I am worth it, worth living', enough of that lets go back, back to the beginning.

I was raised in an abusive family. I grew up being told I didn't diserve anything, life, clothes, shelter, or any other things that most kids just expect to have. I was treated like scum. Yet there was one thing that allways puzzled me, they never laid a hand on me. Never. Not once did I get hit, smacked, kicked, or thrown. I was thankful for that, don't get me wrong! Still if they talked to me like that what was possibly stopping them?

I slept in the smallest room you could ever think of. Imagine a walk-in closet (a small one) then take half of that room, and then take half of the height. That was my room. I had no bed, I had a sleeping bag. I only had two sets of clothing. Two shirts, one plain white another part of my maid outfit, and two pants, one pair of jeans and the skirt to my maid outfit. Yes, I was also the maid. The unpaid maid. I worked for my food and room. I had to get a job at the age of ten so I could afford to pay the rent for my room, change to clean my clothes, and other things i needed to live. I was a slave, a slave to my own parents. Why didn't I tell someone? The threats. They didn't touch me, but they would threaten other things, "No food", "No room you'll sleep in the yard", "No clean clothes", or "/All/ of your pay for the week goes to us".

My mother, Robin Alyssa Hamilton, was born in France. She lived there for the first two years of her life then moved to Great Britian. She lived there for the remainder of her life, and on her 19 birthday she met my father. My father, Terry Johnathan Hamilton, was born and raised in Great Britian. Then on his 21 birthday he met my mother. Neither of them planed on going to college and they eloped immediately. Later they had me and moved to the United States. Sure from birth to age six I was the center of attention, then it all went wrong.

It was 12:30 am on March 28. The day my sister was born. I was six and was excited for a sibling. I rode with my father to the hostpital and we sang my favorite songs along the way, " When You Wish Upon a Star" and "Happy Birthday" (I was six!). We arrived at the hostpital, a large, white brick building, the roof black and falling apart and I can still remeber thinking that it was an odd place for a hostpital. I walked in looking around, taking in the sights and smells. I saw a person being wheeled into a weird room, it smelt so clean, but a weird clean. My father took me into a small room and pushed a button with a number I recognised as a 6. The next thing I knew we were moving, I got scared and grabbed on to my father's leg.
"Get off me!!" he yelled. And I was pushed off of him. I looked into the man I knew as my dad's deep forest eyes, they had a horribly discusted look in them. I couldn't beleive it! My father, dad, daddy, poppa, and pa never once would I have imagined he would have treated me like that. I felt like crying but was afraid, afraid he might get mad. Little did I know I would upset him more, and more by doing things I couldn't help from happening.

We walked into the hostpital room trailing behind my dad, I was still upest by the incident in the elevator. When I walked in I saw my mother holding a small bundle, abundle I would soon learn to be my little sister, Sophie. I looked over at my mother before entering all the way. I saw her beautiful pale blue eyes looking at the baby, her dirty blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail, and her high cheekbones pushed up in a smile. My father touched the small head of Sophie where the brunette hair would grow, not unlike his. I walked into the room and ran over to my mother.
" Come here honey," she said so I climbed up on to the hostpital bed it had scratchy, white sheets and it was in an upright position. I leaned over the small, sleeping face that was Sophie Ann Hamilton. I smiled at her and went to kiss her cheek. My mother smacked my face and I gave her a dirty scowl. As if by magic her nose began to bleed.
"Oh dear!" my dad yelled as he handed her a tissue. As I smiled at Sophie oblivious to my mothers pain and anger. Sophie opened her eyes and smiled back.
"What did you do!" my mother yelled at me. "Get off the bed!!" I jumped down afraid of what I had done. Tears streaked down my cheek and so did rain over my parents, not on Sophie though she had some invisible sheild.
"YOU!! ITS HER!! SHE'S DONE IT!!!!! GET HER OUT! OUT!!!!" exclaimed my mother. My father told me to get in the hall gently. We walked into the elevator and as the doors shut I could here Sophie's distant crying.