prologue:

10 years ago,

Lilith's PoV:

I heard my parents yelling at each other downstairs, and I climbed the stool to lock the door carefully. I tried not to tumble down the chair as I descended, and did as big sis told me to. I sat down on the cold hard ground and began to color the picture I drew. It was of me, Mommy, big sis, and daddy together. I love my family very much, except when Mommy and Daddy fight.

It went on for hours. It usually cools down before bedtime. Then Mom comes upstairs and tucks me in bed and tells me stories. I love to listen to her stories. They are usually about snow queens, people who live inside animals, ghosts in trees and fairies, and magic people who live in the mountains. I love magic. I'd like to have magic one day.

Granny tells me lots of stories too.

I mostly stay with her when dad returns. Granny's house is far away from home. It smells like old cheese, but I still love to go there with my sister and Mr. Cuddles, my white teddy bear Mom got me for my birthday. I usually sleep with him.

Granny would tell us stories about fairies, yeti's, magical birds, and about a secret group of people with supernatural powers.

'Where do they live, Grandma? I want to know so I can go and visit them one day!'

'Legend says that you can't find them, but they will find you,' she said as she strolled down her hand along with our cat Patrick's bright orange fur with yellow stripes.

Sissy didn't believe her. She laughed and accused Grandma of making the story up. But I believed it. Grandma never lies to us. I saw the fairy in my dream once. It was so real! Grandma chuckled and said, 'Oh, maybe dear, maybe.' What does that mean?

Anyway, I got used to the fights. I love dad, but I think he hates me. He isn't usually around. I think it's because of me. I overheard Mom saying to grandma that he hasn't been talking to her since I was born.

Dad usually comes back during the weekends and sometimes on weekdays. He said that I don't belong to this family. He told me he could've just put me in adoption. He told me that it was my fault he and Mom fought. My eyes watered on hearing these words. Oh, is it my fault? So, is that the reason why everyone keeps giving me cold looks? Is that why the kids at school tease and bully me? But what did I exactly do? Was being born my fault? Why is no one answering?

So, I tried not to be such a burden. I figured if I was a good girl, Mom and Dad wouldn't fight and we could all be together. So, the past week I did good things. I got a 10 for my math test today and I even helped a girl get up after she fell down during P.E. I helped Mom by cleaning the dishes. But my hands were small and weak so Mom said she'd do it herself. I tried to help Daddy by arranging all the files in his work desk, but I messed them all up in the end and got scolded.

'Ugh, can't you do anything right? Why are you so useless?' He threw a file at me.

And I cried.

Today, Mom was about to drop me at grandma's house again. It was better for us, she said. Just as we were leaving, Daddy came in with a bottle in his hand and yelled mean words at Mom. We were all shocked and stunned by seeing him. Boy, he's early.

Angry, I defended Mommy and told him to leave all of us alone. He got even madder and scolded me to stay out of this. Then he pushed me out of the way as if I was trash. Mom told us to get in the car.

Sis snatched my hand and pulled me towards the door. I know she was trying to be brave, but she was as scared as me and Mom. But I resisted and yanked my hand out of her grip. I'm tired of all of this. I don't want Mom to get hurt because of my existence. I really wanted to help Mom.

I tried to talk to him and pulled Mom aside from his grip. He was very strong for a six-year-old like me. 'You brat! Stop making me the bad guy. It's all your fault you home-wrecker!' he shouted and yelled frustrated and drunk. Why does dad hate me so much? It hurts me deep inside.

I love dad, I even drew a picture of him and hung it on the fridge. Mom yelled back, tears running down her face, her voice wracked with sobs, ' Stephen! How could you say this against your child! Don't you love her? What happened to you? You changed a lot.' She kneeled, unable to move from shock and fear. Sister supported Mom avoiding a total collapse onto the floor with tears rolling from her baby blue eyes.

Daddy replied, 'You know what? That's it! I give up! You are nothing to me! I'm leaving!'

Mom looked up and begged him not to leave. 'Darling we can talk about this. Please, we have kids, you have responsibilities, please baby I need you. Stephen!'

But it was too late. Dad gave up on us, and it was because of me. I remember him packing his suitcases, rushing outside, and slamming the car door with tremendous force. Then he drove away faster than the Wind King in the story as I looked helplessly out the window, hugging Mr. Cuddles tight, devastated.