The Birth (The Black Wing Book 1) Read Free Page A

rate. Many people were frightened of this development. Citizens and environmentalist rallied the streets, demanding laws be passed to preserve our natural resources before our dependency in comfortability ruins it. The dispute ended with a mandatory law, a tree is required to grow in every block and corner, constricted by cement and wires for no one to touch.  The majority didn’t mind after that, all they cared was that they could see a tree and enter a sliding door without any effort. The street light flashed green and I left my thoughts behind.
     

     
    Wisps of clouds stretched above, smeared by the current of the wind. The broken window in the passenger seat invited a chilly breeze that numbed my cheeks and tousled my brown hair. Goose bumps grew on my arms and I let out a small shiver. A week into the beginning of Fall and the trees are quickly shedding any green off its leaves. In southern California, the sun is still warm, everyone is still in their summer clothes. As for this evergreen state, summer switched into Fall, overnight. The leaves on the road are scattering from the passing vehicles, whirling like confetti on the freeway.
    Within an hour, I will be entering the hills of wild pines and in another 2 hours, home. There are many national forests in Washington State, but I’m destined to live in the heart of the Okanogan Forest. According to Ms. Clarisse, the national forest used to be a tourist attraction. Trails were mapped out, camping sites, and roads created for those who wanted to come in contact with nature. Now there’s a heavy regulation with limited seasons for those outdoor enthusiasts. Fortunately for me, it’s the perfect place. My husband wouldn’t think of coming here.
    The radio signal was lost. The road is less populated with passing vehicles, until I was venturing alone. I shouldn’t complain, being physically alone is no different than feeling alone. In fact, this road is like me, used for the convenience of others. I thought of my mother and a pinch in my heart made me gasp.
    Since my pregnancy, thinking of her has become difficult. So much insecurity has grown out of the reality that I exist for her convenience. I spent my childhood wondering why it was easy for her to say “I love you” to my siblings but found it difficult to say it to me. I reasoned with myself that being the big sister—I couldn’t receive the same treatment. For years I have thought myself that this was just how I was supposed to feel, that it was normal for me to have self-doubt, and hold no self-worth—I thought it was my noble duty.
    Growing up gave, I wanted to be strong and hate my mother, my siblings, and step-dad, but it was too late for me. My chance to become a resilient child was over, I have become a product of low self-esteem. My little amount of confidence displaced me, I converted my hate into guilt, and in return—I hated my existence. At twelve years old, I suffered from insomnia. It was the year I discovered that my alienation in the family was no accident. The memory is still clear in my mind, out of all my dark moments in life, I’ll never forget this point in my life.
    That day, the sun was setting, an orange sky draped over the neighborhood. Our neighbor’s tall fence casted a shadow on our side of the yard. I was only passing by, when I heard my mom chatting on our neighbor’s porch. Like most Californian suburbs, we were squeezed together, capable of hearing just about everything that’s going on. My mother and neighbor were known to famously chat for long hours. As I passed them, something caught my attention There, I discovered my origin, and the children my mother had before me. Children she willingly terminated.
    Her first pregnancy ended in a natural miscarriage, she was a teenager, dating her first love. Her second pregnancy was denied by her longtime boyfriend. Apparently he was furious about the news, he didn’t want to be a father, so he ended the relationship. My mother