Life was always how I remembered it. Silent and deadly. Like the Gothic Era all over again. I have always been alone. My mother died when I was very young, and my father left me at my mother's sister's house, Aunt Delia. She treated me like I was her own. It wasn't always like that. Delia could never have children and she recently lost her husband the summer before I was brought to her. She always tried to give me everything I always wanted.
Throughout kindergarten to second grade, I was bullied nonstop. Delia withdrew me from Evan Elementary and started to home school me. I didn't mind it, still was the same thing as always. Now that I'm in high school its totally different. The work is harder. Being 18 is hard. "Eclaire?" My aunt calls to me from downstairs.
"Yes Delia?" I say as I peek my head out of my door. I am wearing a black plain shirt that I had always wore. Over that was my black jacket with my last name on the back that plainly spelled out 'Valvort.' I always have hated my name but my last name was very unique. Delia always said that I was named after my grandmother that died when my mother and Delia was young.
Heading down to the kitchen where Delia had all my homework for the entire day laid out for me. "Good Morning sweetheart." She kissed my forehead like she always did. She would do this when I was younger when I came to visit her with my mother and father, but I barely remember going to her house when I was that young.
My mother was always jealous over Delia getting my attention as a baby. Being able not to ever give birth to her own biological child was always a curse but yet a blessing. She got to treat her friend's children like they were her own. I recall a story that my aunt had told me when she first found out that she couldn't have kids. She said that she had kept it secret from her family. No one in the family could never know. It was forbidden for someone in the family not to have children.
