/I don't own anything you recognize in this story. /

Chapter One

"I hear many whispering, 'Terror on every side! Report him! Let's report him!' All my friends are waiting for me to slip, saying, 'Perhaps he will be deceived; then we will prevail over him and take our revenge on him.'" –Jeremiah 20:10 (NIV)

"For jealousy arouses a husband's fury, and he will show no mercy when he takes revenge." –Proverbs 6:34 (NIV)

"Richard?"

Anna's voice echoed in Richard's small office that he kept and was often in. The man sighed and turned the chair around so he could face his wife. Richard wondered what it was about this time. It was always about that wretched girl that Anna called their daughter. He didn't want Samara. He had never wanted her.

"What is it that you want, Anna?" Richard asked exasperatedly. He wasn't in the mood for more of Anna's pleading and begging.

"Could we please let Samara move into the house? It's not right that she has to sleep in the barn. You know what she said at the last appointment, she can't sleep because the horses keep her awake," Anna said.

Richard sighed. "Anna, darling, you know what Samara is. She is something of an inferior. You know there's something wrong with her."

"There would never have been anything wrong with her if you'd just love her like a father should and treat her like a human!" Anna exclaimed.

"I am NOT her father!" Richard shouted, standing up and slamming his book that he had had in his lap to the ground. "I am not related to her. She is just a girl that we're doing charity to. Samara is lucky that she has a home at all. She's lucky she gets the toys that regular children have while they grow up."

Anna's lower lip quivered. "What were all those months that I had her in me? What was that if she wasn't my child?"

Richard could feel the heat rising to his face. He knew Samara was his child, but he never wanted a child. He didn't know how to raise a child, give love to one. That's why he always saw his young daughter as a pest, something like a part of the background. If he could've had his way, Samara would've been at the orphanage by now, but no, Anna loved the child and had always wanted one. So his daily life now consisted of fighting constantly on the raising of the girl.

"I am not saying that she isn't YOUR child. I'm just severing my ties that she's related to me. I WANT her related to me," Richard said.

"Dear Lord, Richard, she IS related to you, whether you want her to be or not. At least let her have a room in the house. What if something happens to her in that room and we wouldn't have any idea what was happening before it's too late?" Anna asked.

"Well, then we'll know that Samara is a klutz and know what she's different from everybody else."

"She's not different from anybody else!"

"Then what about those weird pictures that she's been creating, hmm? How do you explain those?" Richard wanted to shout out to his wife, but managed to keep it in a strained calm.

"I don't know, but all I'm asking you is that you treat her like a loving daughter—like she's the best thing you've ever had in your life. Maybe it could change her and we wouldn't be paying medical bills," Anna shot at Richard.

Richard didn't answer. He was eyeing the doorway, for it had darkened. The shadow behind his wife was the figure of a small girl—Samara's size. Why did that wretch girl have to come in here? After all, he had ground rules that Samara wasn't allowed to come into his office, if she came in the house at all.

Anna noticed that Richard was eyeing the door and turned around to see what he was staring at. Her eyes brightened as she saw Samara in the doorway, staring up at them. Anna loved her daughter with a passion and tried to do everything she could to make Samara's life enjoyable, but it was rather difficult with Richard forbidding Anna to do everything a mother should do for her child.

"Samara, darling!" Anna rushed over to the tiny girl and giving her a kiss and a hug, she placed Samara on her knees. "What is it that you want, Samara, dear? Do you need anything?"

Samara looked up into Anna's eyes and it seemed that mother and daughter sat staring into each other's eyes for the longest time. Richard almost stormed over them to pull them apart and send Samara back off to the barn. He was startled when the girl finally spoke.

"Daddy doesn't love me, does he, Mommy?" she asked.

Anna looked up at Richard before answering. "Of COURSE daddy loves you, dear. What makes you think otherwise?"

"Because he said so just now. He thinks I am crazy, that's why I go to see the doctors. He doesn't want me here," Samara said.

"Your father doesn't know what he is saying. He loves you from the depths of his heart and wants the best for you," Anna assured her.

"Then why do I have to sit on a chair in a white room and answer questions?"

"This is absurd!" Richard blurted out. Anna and Samara looked up at him. "This is totally unacceptable. We do not talk about you being there, Samara. All little girls go there and answer questions until they know what's wrong and then they try to treat it."

"Not all little girls go in and sit on chairs and answer questions. I see them all walking down the street with their mommies and daddies and they are happy. They don't go where I'm going," Samara said.

"Because you are different, Samara. They're trying to figure out why you are different, child. That's why you have to go in and sit on a white chair and answer questions," Richard said.

There was a long silence and nobody said anything, everybody just stood there staring at everybody else. Richard shifted feet uncomfortably. He hated Anna and Samara's stares. The piercing, unblinking ones that made you feel like you've been in their stares for eternity.

Finally, Anna broke away from the stare and had Samara look into her own eyes.

"You are not different, Samara. Just remember that and don't let anybody else tell you differently. If you'd like, you could go to school and be with all the other little children your age and you could be happy," Anna stated.

"What is—school?" Samara asked brokenly.

"School is where you learn to read and write and learn history," Anna told her.

"But why do I have to go there when I can learn that from you?" Samara asked.

Anna sighed. This was going to be more difficult than it actually was. If Samara got the idea that it was something else that she was forced to do, she was going to become sullen and the teachers would think her disturbed, have a parent conference and suggest that they place her daughter in a special classroom—or worse, a special school. Then Samara would become even more withdrawn. Anna couldn't let that happen to her daughter—she wanted Samara to be normal.

"Wouldn't you want to be with other little girls your age and be happy?" Anna asked.

Samara sat in silence, thinking before answering. She had to think this through. If she went, the others would think her different, but if she DID go, it would make her mommy happy. Samara always wanted her mommy to be happy.

"OK," Samara finally answered. "I'll go to school, Mommy, if it'll make you happy."

"Please don't do it to make me happy, Samara. Go because you want to go and because it'll make YOU happy," Anna encouraged.

Samara nodded. "OK, Mommy. I'll go because I want to be happy and it'll make you happy too, Mommy."

"Alright, then, child. You can go to school. Run along now, your daddy and I will straighten the details out for you."

Samara nodded again and slipped off Anna's knee before going out the door, going downstairs into the depths of the house.

Anna stood and wiped her hands. She glared at Richard as if to say, Samara's going to do this whether you like it or not before slipping out the door after her daughter. After she left, Richard slammed his fist into the palm of his hand angrily before bending down to pick up his book and sit back down.

Author's Note: Here's chapter one and I hope you all like the story so far. I'd appreciate it if you'd review, it makes me feel special, laugh out loud.