How often should I update? I can't wait to see if this story takes flight.

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Misha

Eric was drug by his mother to a magnificent mirror. Inside of the mirror was a masked monster Eric screamed at the sight of seeing his reflection for the first time in his life. Laughing evilly his mother said to him "Would you like to see what's under that retched mask?" Before the shocked child could know what happened the mask was ripped from his face reveling a hideously deformed face.

Eric screamed again at the face looking back at him. The lips were swollen down his chin, his eye sunken into his head. Yellow parched skin covered in all the places that bone wasn't showing. His hair was nothing more than thin blond whisks.

Eric went into a rage taking his small fists and smashed them into the mirror. The Pain coursing through his body as the glass cut deep only made his fear and rage worse. The glass crashed to the floor, Eric smashed the glass on the ground till it was nothing but bloody dust. "No one will ever love you" She told him. Eric buried his head into thin bloody hands. He tried to erase the distorted image from his mind that couldn't be him, no it was some sort of black magic, it had to be no one could ever be that revolting. His mother did nothing more than watch the boy, her child lay on the floor in horror.

Eric could barely hear the door knock over his cry. Eric's mother walked away without even giving her child a second thought. "Hello Preacher." She said opening the door with a smile. "Hello Madam. I wish to visit your son." She thought about the child for the first time that was on the ground in the next room. The preacher would not like it but she reluctantly let in the preacher. The man's jaw dropped at the sight of the child laying on the ground bloody and barley awake. "What happened?" he said running to the boy. The evil woman sat down on the piano bench. "I brought him up to have Christmas supper with me and the stupid boy looked into the mirror and went into and started smashing things." The preacher looked unconvinced at her story.

Eric's became more aware when he felt the Preacher lift him up into his strong arms. The grasp felt safe he carried him down the stairs and placed him on the bed. Eric managed to open his eyes seeing the Preacher pull a book on architecture snuck it under his blanket. His mother didn't let him have anything of value he wasn't worth it. So the preacher smuggled things to him. "Madam, do you have a needle and thread? These need stitches." He said looking at Eric's hands and wrists. "I can take care of the foolish child, myself monsieur." The preacher sighed at the woman's cruelty. The preacher stood up after gently placing the white mask over Eric's face. "I'm sorry you have been cursed Eric" he whispered into his ear.

Eric pretended to be asleep as his mother walked over to him. "It's your own fault you are like this." She bent down over Eric "You will never amount to anything; no one can love a monster.

Eric started moving a little later. He looked at his hands the cuts were deep and gory. The blood had dried on most but some of the deeper ones were still bleeding slightly. Eric got up and walked to the water basin and washed his hands. The water turned a pink color and a few gashes started bleeding again. Eric weakly move to his bed and sat down. And managed to rip some strips of cloth and wrapped his hands carefully. "Why?" he cried to himself as he lay back down.

Eric woke up that morning to a nock, he didn't care who it was; no one could make up for what they have done to hm. A fat grey hared man walked into the dark room. He stood there a moment letting his eyes adjust to light to dark. After a few seconds he walked over to Eric who hadn't moved from his bed. "Your mother said I could give this to you." He said handing a messenger bag to Eric. Eric looked at it and sat up before reaching out the bloody bandages. He opened up the bag inside of it was a story book and a book of blank papers and a pencil. "Thank you preacher" Eric mumbled. "Hear!" the preacher said with a cracked smile. "My wife baked these for you." he handed Eric a bag with some small cakes in it. Eric wasn't sure of what to say. The preacher smiled and headed toward the door. "Poor boy" Eric herd him mumble.

Eric spent the day looking through the book that the Preacher had given him. The pages were covered in sketches of buildings from around the world, this intrigued him. The young prodigy devoured the books writing notes on the ways each building was created and what he liked and disliked about the way it was made. He began using strips of wood to create models of the pictures that were in his mind. His limited supplies caused the child to grow bored. So Eric used a sheet of his new paper to make out a list of materials that were needed maybe he could ask the Preacher to get them for him,

Sunday came, Eric knew this by the way the streets were quiet and the bells started ringing in the chapel next door. Eric arose from his wooden crate that served as a desk and pressed himself to the boarded window. Music began to flow to his ears as he listened to the organ play the songs were simple but the music stirred him into a trance. Oh how he loved music! He was interrupted by the music when the organ player started the next song off key. He was horrified, how could anyone dare make a mistake when it came to the beauty of music? Eric groaned and covered his ears outraged by the fault in the song.

Eric zoned out when the booming voice of the preacher substituted the music. His thoughts were still on melodies, unearthly melodies that he had never heard before. Eric thought about the piano in his mother's living room he had to play!

Eric had never dared to leave his room without his mother's consent afraid of what she would do to him. Nervously he walked up the rickety stairs into the house, his nerves faded when he saw the beautiful sight of the piano. It was more stunning than he remembered. Eric gracefully sat down he only had a short time of happiness till his mother would come home from church and he'd have to go back down into the darkness.

Eric's long delicate fingers lay upon the piano he played a few keys transfixed on the sound each key made. Songs came to him pure lovely songs; Eric didn't know how the melodies came about but they mesmerized him. His fingers danced along the keys bringing a smile to his face. He was happy. Time passed all too quickly for Eric the spell of music was broken when he heard his mother laugh. He quickly shut the piano lid and ran down the stairs just before the house door opened.

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