2 Chapter One

I awake to the sensation of cold colliding with skin. I feel the droplets trail down my cheek and drip down from my face to the bed where I am currently curled up. It's the same as every night, I have the same dream. Piercing violet eyes haunt me, every night for as long as I can remember. I just wish I knew why.

I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to draw awareness to the fact that I am now awake. I listen and hear the sound of water hitting against cobble outside and the heavy snores of my mother. I breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up to gather my bearings. As I look around the dark room, I see that there is a candle alight on the table where my mother is asleep, face down, a half-empty bottle of gin in her hand. I walk towards her to move the bottle. There would be hell to pay if she spills it. She's spent whatever money she had left on that bottle. Holding my breath, I silently reach for the bottle, contemplating as to whether or not I am making the right decision. I risk waking her, maybe I should leave her alone for the sake of peace. Her grip loosens around the bottle and I know what I need to do. Being careful not to wake her, I begin to tug on the bottle.

With reflexes like an alleycat, she clamps her hand around the bottle and turns to glare at me, golden eyes filled with hatred.

"Just what do you think you're doing," she says through gritted teeth.

"It's not what it looks like...Mother I didn't want you to spill it".

I hear the blow before I feel it, a ringing lingering in my ears. I stumble to the floor, my hand covering my cheek.

"What did I tell you" she screamed, "Never call me that you pitiful wretch"!

She was right, she had told me not to call her 'mother'. How could I not, though? She is my mother. I hold back my tears, there was nothing to say and there was no talking to her when she was like this. And she was like this a lot. My mother Mertha, the alcoholic.

Mertha isn't my biological mother, but she is the only mother I have ever known. She is in her late thirties and has a face that would have once been considered pretty. However, due to years of neglect and drink, she looks older than she is. She is extremely thin, so thin I wonder how she manages to stand without snapping in half. She hardly ever eats, and sometimes goes weeks without changing. Her life is consumed by alcohol.

Mertha and Thenar took me in when I was just a few years old. My real parents were murdered. The official story is that someone broke into the family home and slaughtered my parents. I only survived because my mother hid me before the attacker got to us. I was found in a room with my parents' bodies, covered in blood - arms wrapped around my mother. As I said, that is the 'official' story, people around here have their theories. After what happened with my parents, I had no family to live me in. I was alone in the world, no family, nothing… well, there was someone. I don't know they are or what their relation to me is, but they had someone find me a home. I know that Mertha and Thenar only welcomed me into their lives for the money that came along with homing me, this is a fact that they endlessly throw in my face. Still, I am grateful to them for taking me in, when I had no one. I just wish I could have made them happy, that we could have been a family.

Now I lie here with my mother standing above me, her fists clenched and eyes blazing.

Just as Mertha began to open her mouth, no doubt to yell at me some more, my baby brother Kalin began to cry.

"Shut him up, I don't want to look at your petulant face" she yelled.

"Shh, don't cry sweet boy" I soothe. Kalin normally sleeps through the night, Mertha's yelling must have woken him up. Lifting Kalin from his crib, I take him to the kitchen and prepare him some warm milk. When I return to the main room, I notice that Mertha has headed into bed. That's good. I took Kalin to the makeshift straw mattress, where I slept and tucked him in and lay beside him. Kalin was two now, he is at the age where he is starting to becoming more aware of his surroundings and taking in everything he hears- I just pray he doesn't begin to understand it anytime soon. "What's up little guy, you know you should be asleep right". Kalin looked up at me with tears glistening his honey eyes. He reached his little hand to touch where Mertha had hit me, I could still feel the sting, I hope it doesn't bruise.

"Crimon oh tay" he asked, his innocent voice laced with worry.

"Crimson's okay" I assured him, placing a kiss on his forehead.

I rested my head on the pillow next to him and stroked his hair as I sang to him as we both drifted to sleep.

As usual, I'm the first one awake. I can hear that last night's rain has subsided, in its place the sun's rays are peeping through the curtains. I really must do something about the roof, I thought Danny fixed it. I hope that Kalin can live a life where the worst of his problems is a leaking roof.

No time to feel sorry for myself, I head to the bathroom and get myself ready for the day. Looking in the mirror, I can see the bruise forming on my cheek "Damn it" I sigh.

I try to attract as little attention to myself as possible. Most of the people in this city believe that I am cursed. Being the sole survivor of a brutal massacre never made fitting in easy, of course, it makes no sense that I would be left alive. Apparently, nothing was stolen from the house, so it couldn't have been a robbery. Someone broke into the house specifically to kill my family, surely they would know of me, look for me...

I said people around here have their own theories, they all involve me.

I was born with crimson red hair...hair the colour of blood. It is said that my family died because of me. No one was ever able to find the killer. Even as a four-year-old child, they believe that I had the ability to kill my parents. They call me the blood child, say my hair is a mark of evil and that everyone should stay away.

If I am cursed, then it is only to live a life surrounded by superstitious idiots, who instead of comforting an orphan child, condemned her.

That is why I cover my hair when I leave the house - because it brings unwanted attention. When it comes to finding work, none of the locals trusts me enough to hire me. I have managed to get some odd jobs from traders, people who don't know me and travel a lot, but it's not enough to save. Not enough to buy a better life for myself and Kalin. I've tried using dyes sold to me by travelling merchants. They never work. It seems that the dyes don't penetrate the hair, as they are supposed to. Maybe I am cursed, I mean that would explain a lot…

Either way, it's easier to just cover my hair when I go outside.

Once I dress, I pick out fresh clothes for Kalin to wear, once he wakes up. I'll need to pick up some new clothes for Kalin soon, he's growing so fast. Thankfully I have some money left over from odd jobs, I'll have to make a day of it, maybe bring him with me.

In the kitchen, I prepare some the dough I'm planning to bake for breakfast, I'll cook it once I get home.

I walk to the door and pick up the shawl I usually cover my hair with, twisting it around my hair and making it into a knot atop my head, my hip length hair disappears into a twist of fabric. Once my hair and body are wrapped up, I take one last peep at Kalin, to make sure he is still sleeping soundly and head out the door.

I walk briskly along the cobbles, heading towards the shopping district. Eggs are Kalin's favourite and after his eventful night, he deserves a treat. Despite the sun shining, it's surprisingly nippy. A fact I am all too aware of as my newly formed bruise aches from the cold.

As I reach the shopping district, I hear people's whispers and snickers, mothers shoo their kids to stand behind them. I don't even think they're aware of the fact they to do it anymore., it's like second nature.

I walk over to a friendly face. "Morning Jean," I say with a smile. Jean is a lovely soul, kind to the core. She always has a smile for me and of course the odd bit of gossip.

"Mornin Crimson, what can I do you for," she says with a brilliant smile.

"Half a dozen eggs please, I'm treating Kalin"

"Bless you girlie, too good for that family of yours," she says, eyeing my cheek. "I've got some bacon left over from a big order, why don't you take it".

"No, I couldn't Jean, it's too much. I've only enough for the eggs today".

"Don't be silly" she says whilst placing the wrapped bacon in my satchel, along with the eggs. "Kalin is a growing boy after all".

"Thank you, Jean," I say feeling touched to have such a sweet friend.

"No problem girlie, enjoy".

As I walk down the alley towards the allotment, I get the feeling that someone is following me. I've had a rough night, they've not chosen the right girl to follow today. I know how to defend myself, for their sake, let's hope I don't have to.

Suddenly I feel something small and hard hit against my shoulder.