[no title as of yet - suggestions would be appreciated muchly (:]

This isn't finished (obviously) but even the chapter isn't finished (might also be worth reading the Author's Note first ..or afterwards ) Thanks xxx1

Chapter 1 – Beginnings.2

My life had always been simple. I was a simple girl from a simple countryside home. I lived in a small cottage with my mother, a few miles south of a rural village. I loved that cottage. It was almost perfect. Surrounded by fields of grass and near a wood of trees. There was a long, muddy path that used to lead from the front door to the country road, so we were quite secluded in our small home. We had a few animals, but I never considered to be living on a farm. Most of the animals that visited were wild anyway. I did have my dogs and my lamb; they were my best friends. Around the back of the house was the apple orchard. This was our main source of income. When the apples were ripe and ready to harvest, my mother would take the old, rusty car into the village and sell them. She’d take other things too, such as flowers, herbs, and clothes – anything that would sell. We didn’t need much money, as it was just the two of us. My father had died long ago in a war that was almost forgotten. 3

I rarely remember going into the village. I was home-schooled by my mother. She taught me everything I needed to know to survive in the world - or so she thought. Because I never needed to go to school, I never needed to go into the village. Mother would always just go by herself to sell our harvest - which now, seems very strange to me, but I wouldn’t find out the real reason for why she did this for many years. And because of this, I never socialised. Sure, we had neighbours, but they lived over four miles away on the next patch of land. I only conversed with my mother and my animals. I had no other Human friends. Sam and Gail were my two dogs, black and white collies. Nelly was my lamb. She was like the baby of the family. She was the cute, fluffy baby that we all cooed at. She had two big, black eyes that sparkled and twinkled. Her bleat was a soft, musical sound - the song of our home. Everything back then seemed so perfect. But that changed, as it usually does. I remember it very clearly: I was about eight at the time. I was a small girl, and skinny. I had long, wavy brown hair that Mother used to tie back. I was out in the fields around our home – on the outskirts of the woods to be precise. I was with Sam. I wasn’t allowed to wander off without Sam. He was very protective, but so gentle and playful at the same time, so he was my perfect wandering-off companion. We were playing a game of explorers, trying to find wood for our campfire. I was throwing sticks for Sam to fetch, when suddenly I could hear Gail barking from our house. Our house was about a mile away from the woods, but it was in clear view. Sam and I both looked in the direction of our home. I didn’t think much of Gail barking – she was a dog, it’s what they did – but Sam began whining. I looked down at him. He was still looking towards the house; his posture was agitated and stiff, like he was about to break into a run. 4

“What is it, Sam?” I questioned him. He didn’t look at me; his eyes fixed on the house. A sudden high-pitched whine screamed out from the house, making my eyes fly back to the house to see what had happened and making Sam suddenly leap into action. “Sam!” I screamed at him. I ran after him. He was barking as he ran. He was so much faster than I was; I couldn’t keep up. As I ran I heard several more whines coming from the house and I began to get worried. Was Gail being hurt? Perhaps something in the barn had fallen on her? I just kept running, now desperate to help Gail. I heard Nelly bleating and I really began to panic.5

I was almost at the house now; Sam was already there. He ran straight around the back towards the barn, so I followed. When I turned the corner, I saw Mother’s car in the garden. I hadn’t heard her return from her trip to the village. Maybe she was already helping Gail. I could see the side of the barn now, so I started to slow down. I could barely breathe; I was so out of breath. I jogged over to the barn door, where I heard my mother shrieking and Sam snarling. When I saw what was happening inside, all I could do was stare. My mother was in there with Sam, Gail and Nelly. My mother was backed against the far wall, and Sam was snarling at her. I could see Gail cowering at the side. She had blood all over her - and I would later see that her right front leg was hanging off and she had an ugly wound in her flank. And then that’s when I saw Nelly. My poor baby lamb. Now she was a bundle of bloodstained wool in the middle of the floor. I suddenly couldn’t breathe at all and felt very sick. I turned and ran out of the barn and threw-up in the garden. I heard my mother cry for me, to help her from Sam. I still couldn’t breathe and I was scared that I was going to collapse, so I sat down. I heard whining and saw Gail limp out of the barn. The sight of her front arm was enough to make me scream and throw up again. I started to cry – like most eight-year olds would. What was going on? 6

It took me years to finally get the images out of my head and many nights sitting awake in my bed - screaming. I had managed – in a dazed state - to follow the road into town and get help. I was then sent to my mother’s brother. My Uncle George lived in a far away city, which was one reason why we never saw him (I had never even heard of him!). I remember the day he came to pick me up from the orphanage, where I was being safely kept. He was a tall man. He was dressed in a dark, blue suit with a blue tie. He was clean-shaved and well groomed. This man obviously had money, but he didn’t seem the “children type”. He terrified me. I know nothing about him, other than his name was George and was Mother’s brother. Mother. What would happen to her? I wondered where she was now. Why had she suddenly turned insane? I missed her so-7

“Naomi, come say hello.” My social worker invited me. I stared at my Uncle shyly. 8

“Hello, Naomi. I’m George,” he extended his hand to me, “I’m going to take you to live with me.” He smiled, his hand still hovering in front of me. I stared at his face, then at his hand. Ever since the day my mother “changed” – as I like to call it – I had been somewhat distant to life. It was as if my mind had retreated into another world, and my body was just a shell. I hadn’t spoken a word and no matter how hard the social workers tried, I wouldn’t talk. In fact, the only noise I made was the screams I did every night, when the darkness would bring back images of the day in the barn. My face was expressionless. I hadn’t eaten much and my skin was now a permanent pale colour. Unless I was lead somewhere by someone, I wouldn’t move – which became somewhat of a problem when I would suddenly release my bladder at the worst times because I hadn’t gone to the bathroom. As I stared blankly at my Uncle, I realised what he must be thinking: that I was rather simple.9

“You must excuse Naomi. She’s had a lot to deal with recently. Most of the children here were much the same when they first arrived and now they are fine! I’m sure Naomi will recover soon.” My social worker explained to my Uncle. I almost laughed – mentally of course. How could I recover? Did she not know what I had seen?! All the blood, my lamb dead in the middle of the floor, my mother’s hysterical face as she shrieked away from Sam. Sam! And Gail! What of my two best friends?! Where were they now? I had never felt so alone in my life. I felt like collapsing to the floor and crying, but I couldn’t. I’d lost the control of my body. I was now just a walking thinking machine. My mind was always racing through the incident in the barn, searching for answers to what had happened and why. It didn’t make sense to me. Why would Mother suddenly turn insane and do what she did? Something was missing from the story and I planned to find out what. 10

“Naomi!” I suddenly heard. I ended my long stare with a blink and looked at the social worker. She was staring at me with a frustrated look. “Get your things ready!” She urged me. What things? I had come in the clothes I was in now and brought no belongings. So I stared at her in confusion. She must have suddenly realised her mistake and then smiled. “Come with me, Mister Winter.” She told my Uncle and then took my hand and lead me to her office. I was sat down on a chair outside her office door. I watched my Uncle and social worker – what was her name again? Jess? – enter her office. They shut the door behind them. 11

The room was pretty empty. The walls were bare and colourless. The curtains were nothing special: two bits of cream material that were hung on a metal rod. A single bed was tucked in the corner. The floor was old, colourless wood. The boards were very old and creaky. The window was dirty with dust. The light could barely penetrate the room. The beams of light that managed showed the particles of dust that floated about the room. There was a small desk with a mirror at the opposite side of the room from the bed. The mirror was dirty and dusty; in need of a very good clean. A small stool sat in front of the desk, the leather of the cushion ripped and spilling out foam. The desk could be beautiful, if it was cleaned up a bit. Beside the desk was a wardrobe, empty and hollow. It had tiny brass handles, and was made of painted-white wood. In one word, the room was plain. It scared me. I lingered in the doorway, unwilling to take a step on the floorboards, as if they were to snap and I would fall to my death.12

“Don’t be shy, Naomi.” My Uncle urged. He stepped into the room and the floorboards moaned under his weight. Not that he was fat; he was very lean – with large arm muscles. He held out his hand to me. I didn’t take it. He was still a stranger to me. Our car journey here had been a quiet one. The long dreadful silence had made me nervous. The nerves had built up as we pulled into the courtyard of my Uncle’s large home. He lived in the outskirts of the city, in a large house that had five servants. There was a cook, two housemaids and the gardener who had an apprentice. Later on I would befriend these servants.13

“Naomi?” George said, worry flashing across his face, but it quickly disappeared and his face returned to its norm. I blinked at him, hesitated, and then slowly walked into the room. I didn’t smile, but looked around the room; exploring every cobweb and crack in the walls. Eventually I nodded at him, my face still expressionless. This was to be my bedroom.14

“It isn’t much right now, but with a bit of work and imagination, we can turn this room into something special.” Uncle George smiled and winked at me. I failed to see the joke. The humour faded from Uncle George’s face and he sighed. He stood up straight, towering over me. Shyly, I shifted my eyes to my feet. Uncle George stepped towards me and put his hands on my shoulders, bending down so he was eye to eye with me. “Everything is going to be okay, Naomi. I want to do everything to help you, and I know it must seem that I’ve taken you away from your home, but it’s for the best, my dear.” He said, pity staining his voice. I kept my eyes on the ground, but I think he could feel the hate radiating from me because he suddenly stood and walked from the room without another word. 15

I was sitting on the old, creaky bed when the door opened and a small, young girl came in, probably in her twenties. She smiled kindly at me, but nervously too. In her arms where a bundle of clothes, towels and bed sheets. She was really struggling to hold them all. Usually I would have stood and helped her, but it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t used to socialising. I’d never known anyone outside of my home and now I’d been thrown into a household of strangers. She placed the pile of folded material on the end of the bed and then looked up at me. For a second or two, she just studied my face. I tried not to look at her, nervous about the stranger. 16

“I brought you some clothes up.” She smiled at me, “And some sheets for your bed, towels for the ‘morning, you know.” Another smile, “Do you want to get changed now? The Master said he wants yer down at six fer dinner, you know, but it’s only four the now so no need to rush, aye?” She stared kindly at me and then handed me a pile of clean clothes. I didn’t reach out to take them, so she placed them next to me on the bed. “Well off you pop to get changed. I reckon you’ll feel better in some clean clothes. And I’ll take yer clothes down to be washed, aye?” When it became clear that I wasn’t planning on moving from my spot, she continued, “The bathroom is just outside the room, pet. Straight across the hall. Yer’ll see the door. Got a lock and all so no worries about Jim or Danny coming in when yer getting changed, goodness knows what they’d be doing up here mind you.” I didn’t know who “Jim” or “Danny” were, but the idea of a lock on the bathroom sounded appealing, so I slowly and silently slipped off the bed and walked carefully over to the door, still weary off the old floor boards. I looked out of the door that the maid had left open and saw straight ahead the bathroom door she had talked about. I stepped into the hallway and made a quick, silent dash for the handle of the bathroom door. I quickly slipped inside the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Once inside, it felt like I could breathe. Suddenly, a rush of thoughts that I had subconsciously been blocking came charging at me. My head began pounding and I swayed. Gripping the side of the bath, I lowered myself to the ground, one hand clutching my chest. Flashbacks of sitting on the ground outside the barn came flooding back and I began to feel sick. That’s when the first tears appeared. I just wanted to go home, to see Mother, my animals: my family. I needed to escape this place. And the sooner the better.17