Chapter One

The girl walked down the side walk, her head bowed. She was about thirteen with flowing raven hair and alabaster skin. She was listening to My Immortal at max volume and seemed oblivious to the world around her. Her voice rang and hovered in the air as she sang in a clear, beautiful soprano: “And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave, for your presence still lingers here… and it won’t leave me alone! These wounds won’t seem to heal… this pain is just too real… there’s just too much that time cannot erase…” Her voice faded to a whisper and she changed the song on her iPod to Life is Like a Boat.

“Nobody knows who I really am. I’ve never felt this empty before… and if I ever need someone to come along… whose gonna comfort me and keep me strong?” She hummed absently to herself as she walked the four blocks to the Heartbeam mansion, dreading the instant when she’d go through that door and face her parents. She snorted and glared at the huge white mansion as though hoping to set it on fire.

Normal, she scoffed. That’s their excuse for ignoring me for 13 years? Because I’m normal? What does that word even mean? She scowled as she finally pushed open the door, hoping to whatever was out there that her rich entrepreneur parents--Nicholas and Eve Heartbeam--weren’t home. To her intense relief the house was empty. She leaned against the spotless white counter and stared blankly out the rounded window. Her name is Ebony Heartbeam and---despite having s lifestyle every kid dreamed of--she was clearly in a state of deep depression. Her parents had ignored her ever since she was five--their excuse being that she was ‘normal’--- and left her to fend for herself with only the occasional guidance. As a result Ebony grew up loud mouthed--when she was younger anyway, now she just sat alone with her misery--fight obsessed, and friendless.

Ever since that night of May 13, 2006 (when she had turned ten) Ebony had been in that deep depression. If only he hadn’t fallen off that building, if only he hadn’t died, if only she’d been able to do something to save him, her friend Jason-- NO! I WILL NOT SPEAK HIS NAME! She mentally kicked herself for her stupidity. Even the slightest thought of her former friend, who had died on their birthday, brought her misery and a stabbing feeling deep inside her soul and spirit, almost as if they were being slashed with a thousand razor sharp daggers.

She sighed, wincing as she did so and turned to leave when an icy hand was clamped suddenly over her mouth. Twisting around she grabbed his wrist and attempted to throw him out the window but only succeeded in flinging her attacker onto the counter. With fluid ease the man--Ebony now identified him as a man--rose to his feet and aimed a snap kick at her which she managed to block, but just barely. Without a word he jumped off the counter to land noiselessly on the balls of his boot clad feet, smirking all the while. She glared defiantly back at him and found herself feeling a small desire to live. It was unusual for her, but she didn’t stop to think about it. “Who are you and what do you want?” she demanded in what she hoped was a strong fearless voice. Her demand came out as more of a hoarse shout, her voice raw from lack of use. The man still didn’t answer and she took that time to study him, analyzing every bit of information her brain picked up and storing it for later use. His iron gray hair was cut close to his skull giving him a frightening appearance. But Ebony knew that appearances meant nothing; just because he looks frightening didn’t mean he was. His shoulders were broad and well muscled suggesting a lot of power despite his lithe frame. He seemed sure of himself and of his purpose, confident and cocky that he wouldn’t fail.

“I said who are you and what do you want,” Ebony growled, demanding an answer. The man grinned wickedly and she was shocked when his voice sounded behind her. If she had been any weaker she would have dropped to her knees before him. But Ebony was of strong caliber; she was not a slave to grovel at its master’s feet.

“Fiesty,” he rightly observed. “Excellent. So you, I take it, are Ebony Hearbeam correct?” His accent spoke of a man who had traveled across many different countries and it made her spine crawl with displeasure. It had an evil air about it that made her want to vomit but luckily for her she had a strong stomach and managed not to show her discomfort. In response to his question she elbowed him in the gut, hoping to escape, but his vice grip on her only tightened.

“Excellent,” he hissed again. “I want you to listen to me, understand?” When Ebony continued to struggle the man decided to take action. “Jason,” he purred. At the sound of that name--the very name she didn’t want to hear--Ebony’s heart froze but she struggled against him even more. She refused to show how how much pain she was in. “Remember the agony you felt over Jason’s death?” he murmured. Ebony finally lost it. With a sudden surge of strength she threw him against the wall, not caring about the damage to the house.

“NEVER MENTION HIS NAME!” she screamed. “KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT ABOUT HIM YOU BASTARD!!!” The unknown man rose to his feet and in a blur of motion had her pinned to the wall by her throat.

“And who’s gonna make me? You? I doubt it.” He leered at her, curious to see her reaction. Ebony clenched her fist, drew it back, and punched him in the face. His hold on her loosened slighty and he stumbled back, rubbing his jaw.

“Excellent,” he hissed again, his pale gold eyes narrowing. Ebony was reminded of a viper as he stalked towards her, moving so fluidly that he seemed to slither over the ground.

“Now,” he murmured as he pinned her to the wall again. “where were we? Oh, yesss…” He hissed the last word and Ebony was reminded once again of a viper. He leaned over her until their foreheads were touching and whispered, **“Omoidasu…” In an instant thousands of memories flooded Ebony’s mind: meeting Jason when they were ten years old, the anniversary celebrating the first year of their friendship--their birthday ironically--when he gave her the locket around her neck (she kept it hidden at all times), remembering the way he saved her from death time and time again… Memories flooding her consciousness, filling her entire being with agony and the bitter venon that was pain until finally everything went black…

**Japanese for ‘remember’