African Sorceress

hey guys! I'm sorry about my hiatus but I'm not happy with this story so I'm redoing it. It will be a bit out of context, so bear with me. This is the first chapter of the updates! Hope you enjoy it, and PM me if I've made any mistakes!

Maya's POV

I took a deep breath, and jumped into the African waters.

I reflected on my past. I had lived in Africa for the past five years with my father. We had left America when my mother died as it left too many sad memories for my father. I had loved my mother dearly, but unlike my father, I wanted to be reminded of her every day, because I thought if I avoided the things that made her real, she would leave my memory forever.

My father and I had moved to Africa because my father's work took him there. He worked as a representative for Africa's finances, but after my mother's death he had sunk into a horrible depression, and had got sacked five weeks after we arrived at Africa. We survived for the next few years on what little money I could scrape up doing little jobs for people, but he wasted most of it on drink, so he could forget. I will never forget the day when I came home and the whole house smelt of alcohol. He was lying, face down on the table.

"Dad?" I asked cautiously, not wanting him to blow into my face. A low moan escaped from his throat and then, in a sudden movement, he rose. Staring down at me, his eyes showed no recognition for me, his only daughter.

"Who are you? How dare you come in here! This is my house!" He shouted into my face. I smelt the drink on his breath, and I took a step back. It wasn't his house; it was the people we had rent it from. We hadn't got enough money to get decent accommodation; it was filled with drunks and druggies. I decided the best thing to do was look down and walk up to my room, but as I turned around he grabbed my arm. Tight. It took me everything I had not to shout the house down.

"Don't go into my house! I'm calling the police!" he screamed in my face, slurring the words as he said them, proving he was beyond drunk, and needed help. Fast. But before I could even consider running, his hand came up fast to my cheek, slapping it with all his force. I cried out in pain. How could my own father do this to me? I writhed in his iron grip, desperate to get away, as he reached for the house phone which was out of order.

"Let go! It hurts! Stop!" I screamed. His nails, sharp and jagged, pierced my skin. Suddenly a wild gale blew around me in the direction of my father, pushing him away from me into the wall. I heard a loud crash as he made contact with the wall. Shelves collapsed on top of him, knocking him out for the count.

My mind swam and I fell to the floor, distraught. Had I done that? Had I managed to, in my fury, to bend the wind and push it into my father, forcing him away from me? It seemed the only reasonable explanation for the confusing occurrence that had just happened. My fingers found their way around my neck to my necklace, a gift from my mother. It was Quileute, like her. Her mother had given it to her. With it she told me stories, about men morphing into protectors, wolf protectors, and women who could manipulate the weather, or waters, or the minds of others. Was that what I was? Was I one of those special few with the gene? No. I couldn't be. They were just fairytales! Then I remembered all the times I had dropped something and it had never broken with my mother in the room. She had always joked that she was one of the women from the stories. They had to be true. This sudden weight of information my head made me feel nauseated.

I sat down on the floor, and looked over towards the direction of my father. Tears welled up in my eyes and throat when I acknowledged what I had done. I couldn't stay here! I had hurt the one person in my life that meant something to me. I also realised that I wasn't crazy, because when I touched the necklace my mother had given me, I heard voices. They were echoes of thoughts, but still there. I remembered a story that said the woman who possessed more powers than a human was closely connected with the pack. Were these the voices? I knew what I had to do. I jumped up and got together a water-proof bag, filling it with all the food I could manage to fit in, and looked at a map. If i found a boat to America and got lifts from one side of thge country to another, I could make it. If I died on the way, at least it would be somewhere where no one could realise I was missing. I dragged my father's sleeping body into his bed, and left him a note, reading;

Dear father,

I have decided to go to mother's old home in America, La Push. I have family there and hope to discover new family and friends. Please don't follow me, I will be fine. I need a new start. I have taken ¾ of the money I have made in the last week, spend the remainder wisely. I love you, I'm sorry,

Maya xxx

Tears fell down my cheeks as I lain the note on his bedside table. His wounds weren't serious, he would wake up in the morning and probably wouldn't realise I left until he saw the note. I took a deep breath, and jumped into the African waters, swimming to the dock. I just prayed I had enough money.

Three days later

I was famished, so I munched on a bruised banana that I had packed. I had slept under a life boat, and it hadn't been very comfortable. Finally, I saw the faint outline of a country. I impatiently waited for the boat to dock, then hid from the official-looking people. They might send me back because I didn't have a passport. I found a road, and stuck my hand out for a lift.

"Where d'ya need to go, kiddo?" A truck driver asked out the window towering about my head

"The other side of the country: Washington. Can you get me a part of the way there?" I asked shyly

"I can get you close- to a neighbouring state" I grinned, thanked him, and jumped in. He was very nice, and extremely chatty for most of the drive, only stopping when I had a rest. Still, time passed incredibly slowly. When he finally said 'here we are' I thought we're may have gone to the moon, the time it took us! Thanking him again, I indicated for another ride.

"Are you going to Washington?" I called out, but many weren't. After ages though, a police cruiser drove up.

"Where are you heading kiddo? It isn't safe for a girl like you to catch lifts!" The driver said to me, and I frowned.

"I'm sorry, but I've no choice. I'm heading to La Push, Washington."

"Oh well I'm heading to Forks. Its near the rez. I think you'd better pop in before someone takes advantage of a pretty girl like you" I agreed, and after ages of driving along to folk songs, I got to Forks.

"I know someone who could get you to the rez if you fancy? I don't like the idea of you lift-jumping again" I smiled and accepted the offer, glad this man was so kind. He dropped me off at the police station, where I got a lift with the chief of police to his house, who the called a guy and asked him to get me. I smiled at the generosity of the Forks police force, and awaited my lift.