Page 4 of Mistaken Magic

"Ishe a creep?"Iwhispered.

Sheshrugged. "Ithink they both are.Noclue what they're looking for, but they will check every night to make sure we're still in our rooms.Thefront door has a squeaky hinge, so it's not like we can just sneak out, but who knows what they think we're doing."

"Goingout the window?"Isuggested.

Stephaniescoffed. "Thereare bars on the windows.Nogoing out that way either.Kindawhy it's weird."

"Yeah."Ileaned against the sink. "AnythingelseIneed to know?"

"Nokissing boys.Atall," she said. "Theguys are all on the first floor, but it doesn't matter.They'reour brothers now, and that means off-limits.Nocussing.Noyelling.Norunning in the house.Youknow, the kind of rules a five-year-old should have.Right, and don't be late to dinner.Mrs.Sparkswas pissed when you didn't come down last night.Shewas going to make you go without, except you kinda did that on your own."

"Ifell asleep,"Iadmitted.

"Theydon't care," she said, turning around and walking away. "Theonly thing that matters here are the rules.Theirrules."

Fromthe direction she turned,Icould only guess she was going to her room.Ihurried to follow, and sure enough, her door was the one on the other side of the bathroom.IassumedI'deventually work out who went where, since neither of theSparkshad felt the need to tell me.

Evenworse,Ihad no idea when dinnertime was.ThebestIcould do was leave my door open, so whenIheard everyone else head downstairs,Ifollowed.Imade it to the table, but whenIgrabbed the first chair, a boy shook his head at me.Thenhe pointed to one at the end.Evidently, that was my place.

Naturally, the ordeal was antiquated.Therewas a prayer, led byStephanie.Igot the impression we took turns with that too.Onceshe was done, the main dish was passed toMr.Sparks.Whenhe had enough, it made its way around the table, ending with me.Surprisingly, there was plenty left.

Whilewe ate,Mr.Sparkstalked to his wife about his day.Noone else spoke.Mrs.Sparksnodded and asked questions, but we kids were clearly only here to be props.Still, kids will be kids, and the girls beside me were gesturing in their laps.Notsign language or anything, but it clearly meant something to them.

Afew smiles were traded, but they were soft and subtle things, designed to not draw attention.Needlessto say, more alarm bells were going off.Thisplace had creepy written all over it in capital letters.So, whenIwent to bed that night,ItookStephanie'sadvice to heart.Iput on a pair of sweats and a tank with a sports bra.IfMr.Sparkstried to put his hands on me,I'dbe out the door and running for the state-run home as fast as possible.

Thehouse got quiet.Theothers fell asleep.Iwas tense, my mind spinning, waiting for the worst, but sleep came first.Ididn't even know whenIdrifted off, but the sound of my doorknob turning woke me up completely.Ididn't jump.Imade no move to sit up.Inthe darkness,Ibarely opened my eyes enough to see a shadowy form step into my room.

Thatwas definitelyMr.Sparks.Theman made his way in and walked a lap of the room.Afew times he touched things on mydresser or shelves, then he paused to stand over me.Iclosed my eyes again, pretending to sleep, butIcould still hear him.Fora little too long, he watched me.Iwas about to pretend likeI'dstirred when he finally turned around, his feet soft on the rug beside my bed, and headed back out.

Iwaited until the door closed before opening my eyes all the way and scanning my room.Itried to figure out what he'd touched.Overthere was a picture frame with some cheap print of a sunset.Iwas pretty sure he'd checked it.Onmy shelf was a bookend, which looked homemade.Then, on the nightstand beside my bed,Ifound something new.

Itwas a little figurine made of metal.Curious,Ireached over to pick it up, wondering if there was a nanny cam in it or something.Nothing.Nocord, no hole for a camera.Itwas just a little statue of a dog, maybe aScottishterrier, and small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.

Wasthis supposed to be some kind of gift?Talkabout creepy!Ihad no idea what the man was doing, or why he'd think it was ok to just walk into my room in the middle of the night, butIwanted none of it.

Sadly,Ididn't have any other options.Thiswas my new life.Luckyme.

Chapter Three

Thenext morning was a repeat of the one before, mostly.Thelittle dog was still on the table beside my bed.Inthe light,Icould see it was black, like cast iron or something.Actually, it kinda reminded me of aMonopolypiece.Thenthere was the sound of birds outside, and the things wereloud, cawing like they weren't happy.

Curious,Iknelt on my bed to look out the window.Cheapblinds covered it, soIraised those, not shocked to see the metal bars screwed onto the outside.Maybethis was a high-crime area?Notreally a comforting thought, but they didn't obstruct the view of the leafless trees in the backyard.

Blackbirds covered them, and not just any black birds.Iwas pretty sure they were crows.Awhole murder of them, from the looks of it.Unableto help myself,Ifound one of the many silly trinkets in the room - a ribbon with a charm on the end that may have been a bookmark - then headed back to the window.

Crackingit open,Islipped the gift out so it hung on the bars.Theribbon should flutter enough so one of them would notice it, right?Maybeit was the morbid part of me, butI'dalways thought crows were pretty cool birds.I'donce read an article about a girl who'd befriended them, and they were knownto remember people who were kind to them.Inone of my last homes,I'dactually made friends with a few.

Besides, if they crapped all over theSparks' car, then even better.

Smilingto myself,Iheaded downstairs to start my daily list of chores.Stupidas it was, the crows had made the day a little better.Somefoster kids dreamed they were really a long-lost fairy princess.Othershoped for a rich relative to appear out of the woodwork.Ijust liked the idea of not being alone in the world.

Thecrows were quickly forgotten whenMrs.Sparkswent on her first tirade.EvidentlyMariahadn't brought down her laundry yet.Iwas sent upstairs to get it.WhenIasked which room was hers - becauseIhonestly could not put a face with that name -Igot a lecture about paying more attention.

God,Ialready hated this place.Apart of me wanted to call my caseworker and complain, butIknew it wouldn't get me anywhere.Ihadn't been abused.Iwasn't being molested.Thinkingthese people were weird wasnota good enough reason to get moved out of here.Inother words,Ihad to tough it out.

Eventually,Mrs.Sparkstold me to make a sandwich for lunch.Itook that as permission to take a break from the drudgery of cleaning, and slipped out back.Theweather was cold, but the space from that woman made it worthwhile.Sittingon the back steps,Ilooked around, trying to get some idea of what kind of neighborhood this was.

Icould hear a dog barking in the distance and a few cars on the roads around here, but that was pretty much it.Well, besides the crows.Theycawed with all they had.Thenone bravely flew down to land about ten feet away from me.Ittilted its little black head, inspecting the newcomer.

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