DISCLAIMER: I don't own Maximum Ride
Prologue
"And where do you think you're going?" a voice asked. Once, just once, couldn't we have an easy escape? My twin brother Iggy and I were currently trying to get away from a drunken foster parent who was bent on trying to beat us up. Notice I said trying. We were 15 and if we had already been running he could never have caught us. But we hadn't started running yet. He had hold of my wrist and he wasn't about to let go. Iggy was standing near me. He never liked to leave a place unless we were leaving it together.
I didn't even bother answering the guys question; I knew any answer I gave would be considered a lie. He raised his hand. "I asked where you've been." He snarled at me. He was our newest foster parent. We hadn't gotten any "good" parents yet. All of them either forgotten us or hit us. This was our 63rd (no I'm not exaggerating) foster home in 15 years. When we were born we were given to an orphanage and ever since we've been in the same one.
Right now I was trying (and failing) to get away from my latest foster parent (I think his name was Robert or something). Iggy wanted to help, but he didn't know how to get me away from the guy without the possibility of breaking my wrist. Robert was one of the hitters. I had bruises already and he was about to start again. There were 2 ways I knew this. 1(he was drunk and 2 (his hand was already in a fist and swinging towards my head. I had to fight him off. I didn't know how I was going to do it yet, I just knew I was going to. I blocked the hit to my head with my hand, and cried out when I felt 1 of the small bones in my hand break. Iggy started to jump forwards, but I motioned for him to stay back. My hand was going to take about 3 months to heal. To bad my wings didn't speed up healing, they did do multiple other things, (I could even fly!) but unfortunately I couldn't heal any faster then regular people. I kicked Robert in the spot where the sun don't shine, and he went down. He started swearing at me and reached for me, but I was already out the door. Right before Robert was out of my sight I saw Iggy kick him in the head so he would pass out.
We could run faster then regular people and we never hesitated to do so. Most people just thought we were really fast runners. We fled into the night and ran back towards the orphanage. We would make it there eventually, until then we would sustain ourselves on nuts and berries from the woods, or what we could find in a dumpster.
We always ran away in the end. If the people didn't pay attention to us anyway then they didn't even notice we were missing. If the people were hitters then they lamented the loss of a punching bag, and didn't give a spare thought to weather we were alright.
We couldn't use our wings. We never used our wings, and we could barely fly for one thing. For another the one time I had tried to use my wings to escape, some idiot thought I was a bird and shot me out of the sky during the night. Of course I couldn't get medical attention for my wing (that's what took the bullet) because no one knew I had wings. We could make it look like we didn't have any wings and we usually used this skill every second of every day. I hadn't seen my own wings in 4 years, ever since 1 of them got shot. I hadn't seen Iggy's in even longer. We always ran back to the same orphanage. No matter how far away they sent us we always went back to the same one. We didn't know why we were so obsessed with going to that one, we just were. Maybe it was because that was the one we were left in after we were born and we were hopping that one day our parents would come back and claim us. In any case, that never happened, and we still kept running back to Sunny Side Orphanage. Don't ask me why it's called that, it just is. When we got back the people that had taken care of us for our whole lives would pretend to be all mad and would ask what happened. We would tell the truth and they would assure us that it would be OK, and that next time the home wouldn't be like that. But the looks on their faces said they really didn't believe that, and the next house was always exactly the same as the one before it. Sometimes it was even a little bit worse. And there you have it; the story of my life.
This might be a little bit confusing. Please tell me if it is, and feel free to ask any questions. I will answer them to the best of my ability. Also, please criticize and review so I'll know what you like and what you don't like. THANKS!
