Raven

Raven

The Raven Saga Part I

SUZY TURNER

Published by
Suzy Turner

Smashwords
edition

Copyright 2011
Suzy Turner

This ebook is
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respecting the hard work of this author.

The characters
and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to
real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by
the author.

For more
information about the author and her upcoming books, please visit
her website

www.suzyturner.com

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A huge
thank you to Cristina Alcock, Jill Ibrahim, Elizabeth Martens, Emma
Naylor & Eloise Walton. I don't know where I would be without
your excellent suggestions, editing and proofreading skills. You're
all absolute angels!

Michael,
thank you for believing in me, even when I doubted myself (which
was more often than I care to admit). You're my rock.

And
lastly, thank you to all my lovely followers, fellow bloggers,
writers, twitterers and facebook friends for just being there when
I needed advice or a little pick me up. It's wonderful to have
friends like you behind me.

Mum... you may have been gone from our lives for many
years,
but you will never be forgotten.
This book is for you.

CHAPTER ONE

The
summer months were coming to an end when my parents disappeared.
Although the day had begun like any other, it became one that I
would never forget.

That
morning, as usual, I sat at the kitchen table listening to the
noises drifting up from outside - traffic, police sirens, people
laughing and shouting - while I struggled to swallow the piece of
dry bread that was shoved in front of me. “Eat,” commanded my
mother.

A small
glass of milk just about helped it go down before she snatched the
plastic tumbler from my hands, pulled me to my feet and shoved me
out of the front door of our London flat without another word.
Turning around to search her eyes, I attempted a smile in the hope
that she might return it. But the door was shut in my face. A deep
ache filled my stomach. I needed something that I had never
experienced. I needed to know that she loved me.

Leaning
against the door, I heard the familiar sound of her footsteps
walking into the other room. She closed the door and locked it
behind her. My mother and father had locked themselves in the spare
room once again, just like they had done every day for as long as I
could remember. I had always assumed they worked from home. I've no
idea what they did, they never told me. I never asked. I wasn't
allowed to ask questions.

Running
down the four long flights of stairs, I pushed open the large heavy
door that led outside. The noises multiplied and hit me, as did the
dull smog and the intense London humidity that seemed to accompany
every hot summer. As my feet touched the edge of the pavement, I
stopped for a moment to allow a few cars to pass by before rushing
across the road to school. I had to be quick. She was watching, she
was always watching. My mother would peer down, staring blankly at
me from the fourth floor window of the room she and my father spent
their days. It was as if she was making sure I was actually going
to school. Like I would dare do anything else. She never smiled.
She never waved. She just stared. Sometimes it was almost as if she
was looking right through me.

Returning home at lunchtime, as I was forced to do every day,
she was there at that window staring at me again, as if her stare
would physically guarantee that I came home. She had done it every
day since I'd started school so it was normal to me.

I
unlocked the front door with my key and gingerly tiptoed into the
kitchen where I found her waiting for me.

“
Eat
and get back to school,” she said with a glare as I perched myself
onto the old metal stool and began spooning the cold soup into my
mouth. It was the same cold soup I'd eaten every day. It would have
been nice to have something else, a different flavour, perhaps, but
I would never have asked. Oh no. I'd experienced my mother's anger
one too many times before. It's not that she had ever hit me, but I
knew. I just knew that she wanted to, so I avoided making her mad
at all costs.

It was
my belief that my mother's actions were the same as all other
mothers. I imagined that she did what most mothers did. I didn't
know any different. At least not until I met the newest girl at
school, December Moon. When she had first arrived at the school,
the other kids had sniggered and laughed when she had been
introduced. Even I had thought it was a silly name to start with,
but as soon as she spoke to me, I knew it was perfect.

After
her introduction to the class, the only spare seat available was
next to mine. As my fellow students were in the habit of ignoring
me, I was a little startled to have this pale but pretty
flame-haired girl smile at me as she approached and sat down. I
shyly returned the smile as she quietly took out her books and a
pencil case from the orange rucksack she had carried on her back.
Her clothes were multi-coloured and flowing – a long heavy purple
flowery skirt was paired with an orange and pink striped top, and
brown boots. A brown headband held back her straight shoulder
length hair and when she turned I noticed it had a pink flower sewn
onto it. Ordinarily, the colours wouldn't work together but on
December, they just seemed to fit... perfectly.

When the
attention was no longer on her, December turned to me and whispered
“hello”. She smiled again and her whole face changed. It lit
up.

It
didn't take long for December and I to become best friends. We were
both shy and quiet and were mostly ignored by everybody else. It
made sense that we should spend school time together. More than
anything though, I wanted to be friends out of school hours. My
mother, however, had always made it quite clear that friends of any
kind were strictly forbidden. Fortunately, she couldn't see past
the school gates, so December always waited for me inside, out of
mother's view. She was my secret.

December
and I had spent many a break time chatting about each other's
lives. She was an avid reader of all kinds of books, even
magazines. In fact reading was pretty much all she did when she was
at home. I was in awe of her and I knew then that she must know a
lot more about other people's lives than I did. That was how I
learned that my parent's actions were not entirely normal. Her own
parents, however, could not be described as 'normal'
either.

“
My
father died when I was three,” she had told me soon after we'd met.
“He was a very old man and I was very young so I don't remember
him.”

The
edges of my mouth turned downwards as the heavy feeling of sadness
took effect. “And what about your mother, December? Where is
she?”

“
She
dumped me with my father's family shortly after he died and moved
back to America on her own. She was from Seattle, Washington,
apparently.” Her response was so matter-of-fact that I didn't quite
know what to say, other than “Oh.”

“
Basically, my Aunt Penelope – that's my father's younger
sister who I live with – tells me that my mother married my father
for his money but when he died, leaving her with nothing, she
dumped me with her and took off.”

“
Aunt
Penelope basically makes sure I am fed, schooled and clothed. Other
than that, we don't have much time for each other.” She shrugged
her shoulders. “But that's fine with me. She doesn't like to be
seen with me, especially when her super rich friends are around.
Being my mother's daughter lowers the tone of her family... I even
heard her say that to Monty once. Oh, Monty's our butler, chauffeur
and sometimes gardener,” she shrugged again and that's when I saw a
glimmer of something in her eyes. She wasn't quite so emotionless
about it all after all.

Having
never known anyone rich before... and with a butler too, I thought
it was quite weird for her to be a student in the same school as
me. “December?”

“
Hmm?”

“
Why
doesn't your Aunt Penelope send you to a posh school?”

“
Like
I said, she'd rather I didn't exist so she'd rather keep me as far
from her friends as possible.”

“
That
makes sense, I guess. In which case, I'm glad! I would never have
met you otherwise! So do you not know anything about your mother?”
I asked, intrigued.

December
shook her head, “Nope. Nothing.”

The
sound of the school bell put an end to our conversation and
December didn't mention her mother or her father to me again for a
very long time.

Discreetly waving goodbye to her on that fateful day, I knew
there was something wrong the moment I stepped foot out of the
school grounds. Looking up to the window expecting to see mother, a
vision in white as usual, there was no sign of her. My heart began
to thud faster in my chest as I ran as fast as I could up the
stairs two at a time. I grappled with the key and pushed open the
front door. She was nowhere to be seen. Neither was my
father.

CHAPTER TWO

The
spare room was locked as it always was, and no matter how hard I
banged my fists on that door, there was no reply. I stopped and put
my ear carefully against the solid wood to check for any sounds but
there was nothing. Just silence. Trying to kick the door down, I
didn't even leave a single mark. I was just a slight girl with
little strength, after all.

It was
then that our neighbours, Dorothy and June, came rushing
in.

“
Oh my
dear, my dear! Whatever is the matter? What is all this banging
about?” yelled one of the sisters as they tried to calm me
down.

“
It's
mother,” I said, “she's... she's disappeared. She's always here. I
don't know what's happening. There's no answer at the door.
Something's wrong,” I sobbed.

Just at
that moment, the sisters' black cat wandered in behind them. It
immediately began purring at my feet and rubbed itself against my
legs. It had never set foot in our apartment before and it was
strange that it did so then.

It
jumped up so that it balanced on its hind legs and leaned against
me. I momentarily forgot all about the commotion that I had caused
and leaned forward to pick it up, cuddling it while it continued to
purr. “That's strange,” said June, “she's usually terrified of
people.” The cat was clearly not terrified of me. It was the first
time I had ever stroked an animal and I felt a strange affinity
with it. It was a wonderful feeling as it rubbed its head against
my neck. Looking into her deep, warm eyes, for a moment I felt a
strange sensation within me. It felt as though I was being loved. I
didn't want to lose the feeling so I sat down on the floor and
stroked her soft fur, smiling.

“
I'm
going to call the police,” one of the sisters said as the other
tried to coax me off the floor. I didn't feel myself, for some
reason. A strange trance-like state came over me.

“
Come
now, dear. Come and sit on the sofa. You'll catch your death on
those cold floor tiles.”

I did as
I was told and followed her to our uncomfortable hard red leather
sofa, where we waited until the police arrived. The cat sat on my
lap and the two sisters sat on either side of me.

“
We
know that your mother leads a strict routine, my dear, so to hear
you banging on the door like that had us worried,” said
June.

“
We've
never known anything ever happen to you like this so we thought
we'd better come over straight away and find out what's going on,”
added Dorothy as she gently patted my hand with her own wrinkled,
yet perfectly manicured, fingers.