Chapter One
My Beginning

My name is Terri Skylar. My story starts here at my house. It was the most powerful thunder and lighting storm San Diego has seen since in a long time. The lighting was low and blinding. The thunder was hurting my ears, and there were overflowing puddles in the depths of the road, but it all started with a cold breeze at night around 6. The killer storm came upon the city in a matter of minutes and in a matter of minutes a lot can happen.
I was 14 when the awful storm started. The window was open and so it got very cold in the house. My dad closed the horrible window but my dearest mom was still cold. So she went to the car to get her favorite sweater. The car was outside because my older brother, age of 18, got a brand new car and my mom being as sweet as she always was insisted that his car go in the garage. As my wonderful mom went outside to get her sweater, my charming dad and I started the popcorn and DVD. Once it was to the main menu I noticed that the rain was pounding against the window.
"Dad," I said to get my dad's attention, "you know how mom gets when it 'rains hard'."
"Yea," he started slowly, "I'll go check on her."
I followed my dad to the door of the garage. We both saw my mom in the car white as a ghost. We were urging her to come to us smiling greatly, but she wouldn't move. So my dad started to go out to her. We both heard another sort of pounding on the window only this time it was harder. Hail made the window into Swiss cheese. Then my dad ran to the car, but before he left he said something I still turn to today.
It was as if slow motion from that point, as if I was in a movie. He ran out to my frighten mom. The hail was making holes in the front car window. My dad opened the car door and grabbed my mom roughly. Then a horrifying moment happened that is branded in my brain forever. One hardened drop of rain broke a hole in the front window, of my mom's dented car now, and hit my mom. It made a huge gash with dark red blood going down her right eye. My dad carried her wilted body back to the house with new burses all over his legs and back. My mom on the other hand wasn't as lucky as a few scars. My mom didn't get her desired sweater and never will.
I didn't watch the Lord of the Rings movie we rented that night. I didn't even watch it until I was 16, even that was hard. After my dad broke four glass cups, by throwing them at the wall and ground, he stomped upstairs and slammed the door of my parents' bedroom. I had to do something. My dad just left her body here right in front of me. Then the microwave timer went off. I ran on the tile, and almost ran into a wall because I couldn't see where I was going with all of my tears in the way. I opened the microwave door ripped open the bag. I spelled the delicious popcorn. Through my salty tears, I ate the popcorn. I ate the salty, buttery popcorn like there was no tomorrow. I had to take my mind off this life I was living.
My dad had a different way of going through this dreadful time. After the thunder stopped I uncovered my ears. I heard a couple cars pulling up in the drive way. I was so glad it had finally stopped. I went up stairs to my bedroom window to see who pulled up. I dropped my empty popcorn bag and ran upstairs to my parents' bedroom. I was going to ask my dad why the cops of all people were here. I opened the door and screamed. For there laid my beloved dad. I don't know why he did it, but there was a new bottle of pills knocked over with none inside. There were also pieces of glass everywhere even in my beloved dad. I had to watch my every step. They came from the huge mirror in the room. A wooden stick, probably balsa, with the name Shadow on it was by my dad. Two, gold painted metal poles, I couldn't help but think that the paint was peeling, they were solid with sharp ends as if my dad was sharpening them into knives and inscribed on them was another name I've never heard of; Stranger. I looked at it closely. My dad taught me a lot about self defense and I needed to get away. This was too much for me. My mom died and my dad didn't listen to his own advice and so now he's dead. I tried to get out somewhere in the middle of the policeman's lecture about an orphanage, but another policeman caught me first; he had the name Arnold on his name tag. I squirmed out of his grasp. The policemen formed a line so I wouldn't get out. Before I could think of it a policeman, with a name tag that said Albert, got the two poles that were beside my dad. Then I grabbed the stick before Albert or any police officer could take it. I'm so scared. What am I doing? Standing up to three policemen? I don't even know if I could beet them. Plus it's illegal. I dropped the stick. How could so much happen in so little time? I hung my head and held back the tears.
No talking came unlike in the T.V. shows. Instead they tried to pick me up and take me somewhere, probably "downtown". Albert had my right arm and Arnold had my left. The other guy picked up my kicking feet. Then I rolled up my body with no effort at all. That caused the cops to trip and fall. They tried to pick me up like that, all rolled up. Arnold just watched, guided them to the door. It was helpless I couldn't win. All the tears I was holding back poured out I closed my eyes and I shrieked one short loud scream. They dropped me. I opened my eyes to see them laying there lifeless. Not more deaths! I thought. They were stabbed with large pieces of glass. I was wide eyed, scared, and alone. I was shaking my head.
"No." I whimpered, "NO MORE!" another cry from my mouth came out.
I grabbed the stick and two metal poles from the lifeless Albert and ran. I was so scared of glass for it had killed so many people that night. All I could do was run. So I ran downstairs, through the door, down the drive way, where there was a young girl who looked my brother's age, down my cal-de-sac, ending up in, what looked like, an abandoned park. I was so tired I sat on a swing, but it wasn't enough. Practically falling out, I shuffled my feet to the edge of the sand box and laid down in the damp sand. I was so pleased the storm was over.
"Hello?" a voice said in the darkness.
I gasped, "Umm…hi?" I didn't know what else to say. "I didn't know anyone else was here. I'm sorry. I'll just leave."
"No, please don't" the mysterious voice spoke.
The voice sounded my age and I had a stick and two poles if she wanted to make trouble with a highly trained girl.
"Okay," I finally said.
I was asleep in no time at all with my new weapons clutched tightly against my body.