Becca Black was not a normal girl, although anyone who knows her will tell you that she is as normal as it is possible to be at 15. She was a witch, which is only one of her differences. Her father, Sirius fell in love with a beautiful woman named Rosa. They met in a local pub, and decided to go on a date. He married Rosa one year later. Sirius disappeared in November of 1980. Rosa was heartbroken when he went away, but became extremely happy when she found out that she was pregnant with Sirius's child.
Becca was born on July 18, 1980 at 12:30 AM. In 1981, Rosa was reading the Daily Prophet when she read that her husband was arrested for murder. When Becca was four, her powers began to show themselves. Different things would mysteriously happen whenever she was angry or upset. Rosa knew what was happening, and paid it no mind, for she too, was a witch and knew that this kind of thing was normal. They moved to the United States when Becca was seven. One stormy winter night, when Becca was nine, Rosa was driving home from work when a heavy snow began to fall. She suddenly swerved to miss a rabbit and her car spun out of control and ran into a light pole. Rosa was killed upon impact.
A nice family adopted Becca a few months later, though she never got over what happened. Hearing Becca talk about her past was very rare. Her adoptive mother, Cindy, often told her that it was unhealthy to keep everything inside and called her hardheaded when she refused to talk about it. Cindy had one other daughter. Her name is Lucy and she is five years old. Because she is a single parent of two, Cindy often asks for help around the house, which Becca is happy to do.
"Becca," Lucy said one night over dinner, "what was your mommy like?" Cindy looked sternly at her, although she was curious about the answer. Becca looked over at her baby sister, even though they were not related, Becca loved her and usually answered her questions without complaint.
"Well, Lucy, she was like any mommy, she cooked, cleaned, and did other mommy stuff. She loved to read and she made the best peach cobbler in England, that is, until we moved here, then it was the best in Nebraska." Lucy nodded, indicating that she was satisfied with the answer she was given. For being five years old, Lucy was very bright and had learned not to push a subject that someone was not comfortable with. Cindy, however, pressed on the subject.
"But what did she look like?" Lucy glanced over at her mother. Cindy looked over at Becca, expecting an answer. She hoped that she would answer because she wanted more information about Becca's past life, which was never mentioned.
"My mother," Becca said, "was very tall, with a rosy complexion and dark brown hair. She was extremely skinny, and she loved my father. Her name was Rosa." Becca thought of the picture hidden deep within her dresser drawer and got up from her chair at the kitchen table and walked out of the room. Running up the stairs, she opened her bedroom door and slipped inside.
She walked over to her dresser and took out the picture. Looking at it, she saw her mother, tall and skinny standing next to a man she never knew. He had black hair and milky skin. Somehow she knew him, even though she had never met him. Tears came to her eyes as she gazed, unblinking, at the picture.
"Mommy, Daddy, why did you leave me when I barely even knew you?" Her words caught in her throat. Walking over to the window, she gazed out. A summer storm was just beginning. The rain began to fall without warning. Several children ran inside across the road fearing that they would get wet. Cindy is going to come up here looking for me, she thought. Sighing, she knew that is was true. Cindy tried her best to understand her past, but the past held far too many tender wounds to talk about. Except for her powers and her mother's wedding ring, she had nothing that could remind her of her parents. Drying her eyes with her purple floral bedspread, she walked downstairs and into the living room.
Lucy was sitting on the couch, watching the rain with supreme boredom. It was a tradition that as soon as dinner was over, she and her friends would meet at the park down the street, with their parents, to play. Of coarse, rain always postponed the tradition, but the longing to be outside was evident on the young child's face.
She walked quietly over and sat down next to her baby sister. Putting her arm around her, she gently ruffled her hair and smiled. It didn't matter that they weren't really sisters, they felt somehow connected, as though by blood. When Cindy peeked around the corner, she opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. Becca felt sorry for Lucy, for she knew how much the play date meant to her. Willing the rain to stop, she concentrated hard, straining her brow with frustration. The rain outside the window suddenly lightened, then stopped.
"Yay!" Lucy screamed jumping up from the couch and running to put on her rubber boots. "The rain stopped! Mommy, would you walk with me to the park?" Running to the coat closet, Becca pulled her coat and Lucy's off the hanger. As she started to put her's on, something occurred to her.
"Cindy, you go ahead with what you're doing, I'll take her." Lucy looked up at her, surprised. Becca had never taken her to the park before. She usually came along of coarse, but she had never offered to do it herself. Peeking around the corner, Cindy nodded.
Pulling on their jackets, Becca and Lucy rushed out of the house and down the street to the park. They walked steadily along, not speaking, until they reached the parking lot. While Lucy ran to meet with her friends, Becca found a comfortable seat on a not-to-damp bench and thought to herself. Lucy is one of a kind. They broke the mold when they made her, but she is so innocent, it is impossible not to love her. She absentmindedly glanced around, watching the playing children with smiling eyes before moving her head to glance at the slide. It was a tall blue metal structure, originally painted blue, with patches of rust showing. All of the smaller children called it "The Twister," because of its twists and turns.