The Birth (The Black Wing Book 1) Read Free

breakdown—I’m about to collapse into tears!
    Natalie watched me with a confused look on her face. When the yellow note went through the opening glass, my hands shot towards it. Like a vulture, I aggressively snatch the paper from her shell shocked hands. She jumps out of her seat. Unable to give an excuse—I hurry out the door.

Chapter Two
The Road

     
     
     
“The engine thundered, I accelerated to 100 mph.”

O utside of the clinic, I suck in every cold particle of oxygen and recycle them. The self-help books I read on anxiety have been of no help. If my own doctor can trigger a nervous attack, then I must be getting worse. Of course, Dr. Graham isn’t the only contributor. A cashier or an invasive kind stranger have approached me with smiles, as wide as my belly just to congratulate me. They often look around and utter the forbidden word father.
    Sailors I call them, fishermen of my past. To dodge their hooks and nets, I turned into a creative liar. There’s nothing more tragic than “he died” to mute them. This small town can’t handle the truth, to them it will be as bitter as a spoon of cold medicine. No one will be able to swallow that my relationship with my husband involved locked rooms, bashed furniture, and punched in holes on every wall. No one wants to hear that announcing my pregnancy involved dodging a beer bottle. Maybe my memories with him were once sweet but they turned unpleasant like the ale he enjoys to gulp.
    I’m a hypocrite for wanting to keep my past known but I’m willingly bringing it up in my mind. I shake my head, pretending my memory are specks of dust. I climb into my truck, which by a miracle survived the long journey to Washington State. Among the clean vehicles in the parking lot, my truck stands out from the rest. Instead of glowing the color grey it was manufactured in—it’s coated in a dark mud that just by looking at it, gives me a craving for chocolate cake. As soon as I turned on the ignition, my truck grumbled and trembled, completely aware of the 3 hour drive home. I took a moment of silence, and mentally prepared myself for the long miles ahead.
    When the sound of piano keys started dancing out of my one working speaker, my baby jabbed my stomach. Classical music—piano to be exact, always results in painful kicks. I pressed my hand over my round belly, and smiled. This little one, is just like me, he or she has knack for pianos. The thought suddenly made me sad.
    In my middle school year, a pianist visit our school to educate us about the art of music. That was the first time I watched someone perform live on the grand piano. The sound captivated me, his fingers looked like waves, forcing the hammer to slam on the strings. Key after key, my heart would flutter. The entire concerto took me to a place of serenity. Every piece the pianist played, took me from my bitter role in the family. Before the pianist left, he inspired me with the encouragement to learn how to play music. I took his words as a demand.
    With the little courage I had in me, I told my mother I wanted to be a pianist. She looked at me in disgust. In her eyes, she was so convinced that I couldn’t be anything. Her immediate disapproval caused me to whole heartedly accept her viewpoint. Through the years, I suppressed my desire to be a pianist, and left that dream behind.
     

     
    The downtown streets grew busy today. Everyone crowded over the sidewalk, entering and exiting the small shops. Many held the latest communicative devices in their hands. Because of my short finances, I fell five years behind our modern technology. Not being able to keep up with the latest trend, changed my perspective, I have become philosopher.
    At a stop light I watch them, even with my lack of a proper education, I feel as though humanity is on a cliff, entrapped by the virtual world. The era of technology is now an unknown age. Since the birth of the proper computer, technology has been advanced at an unbelievable