Raven's Blood

Prologue ~ Raven's Blood

     Where to begin a story as long and such as mine? From my childhood, or perhaps my days of suffering as a so-called freak, meaning my teenage misery. Or should I pick the day I died? You’re probably wondering what on earth is she talking about. I guess I shall begin by introducing myself. My name is Raven Jada Mercucio. I’m the adopted daughter of Luigi and Jada Maria Mercucio. Neither my real parents nor my adopted parents knew what would become of me. At least that was the impression that I got. But both sets of parents loved me very much.
     I learned I was adopted when I was seven years old. Before I found out I was adopted, I had always wondered how an Italian family had a daughter with pale skin, ice-blue eyes and copper hair. As Fate would have it, I was always tormented by my fellow classmates because I didn’t “look” like my adopted mother and father. It was on a day that I was beaten up by Sophia Cicci, a girl from an extremely wealthy Italian family, that I was told part of the story of my life. Sophia claimed I wasn’t worthy of having an Italian name.
     I cried all the way home. When I got there, Mama gathered me into her arms and asked me what had happened. After I told her about my horrible experience, I begged Mama to tell me why I didn’t look like her or Papa. She held onto me like I was dying. Little did she know that I truly was dying. Not because of some disease or perhaps it is some kind of disease that most ignorant people think to be just a tale.
     “Raven, my child, the reason why you don’t look like either your Papa or me is because you’re not our ‘real’ daughter. We adopted you.”
     I was considered a genius, a trait I would later learn I inherited from my father. And it was because I was so smart that I somewhat understood what was going on. Plus I also knew in my heart, even though I loved Mama and Papa dearly, they weren’t my real parents. When Mama confessed that I wasn’t her flesh and blood, I had already figured that I was adopted. I just needed to hear for myself the truth. So when Mama told me, I felt relieved, yet very unhappy.
       “Where are my real mother and father?” I asked immediately. I was sorry that I asked when I saw the tears begin to form in Mama’s eyes. Tears of pain and sorrow.
       “Before you were born, your real mother, Raven,” she began and smiled to herself as she remembered the days before I came along, “worked as a waitress for our restaurant. She rented the apartment above the restaurant from us shortly after she moved to the city. Your papa and I were unable to have children and your mother was an orphan. We treated her like she was our own daughter. We helped her get an education and even helped her so she could live out on her own. Before she came to work and live with us, she lived in a homeless shelter. It was just a few months before she graduated from trade school that she had waited on this young man traveling through the city. He fell instantly in love with your mother and even moved here so he could date her. He even went to the trouble of buying a mansion on the outskirts of the city. We thought nothing of it, him, or the situation. We were actually very happy that she’d met someone. Soon their dating became serious and their love grew stronger until…” Mama paused and wiped away the few tears that fell onto her cheeks. I was afraid to hear anymore, but to prove that I was old enough to understand, I urged her on.
       “Until…well, Papa and I became suspicious of this man. We didn’t know anything about his background and noticed he had very strange habits. When he’d come to the restaurant to eat, he’d only come at night. He’d only visit your mother at night always using the same excuse that he was a night owl and couldn’t sleep well during the night because he suffered from weird anxiety attacks. When he came to the restaurant to wait for your mother’s shift to end, he’d always ordered food, but never touched it, unless it was a rare steak, which he’d ordered once or twice a month. He always seemed to have money, yet no source of a job. Your mother told us that he was extremely wealthy and didn’t need a job to support himself. He came from a wealthy family and inherited a fortune from his father when his father passed away. The creepiest thing about him was he always kept to himself. Your mother, God Rest her soul, saw a bright future with him,” she said and shook her head.
       “He had lived here for almost a year before he asked for your mother’s hand in marriage. Two or three days later, she came running to me in tears. At first, I thought he had broken off the engagement or she discovered he was having an affair. That would have been easier to accept. But of course, it was worse than that. Your mother was pregnant with his child. That child was you. She cried to me, blabbing all this silly nonsense that your father was some kind of…” Mama looked frightened, all of a sudden. I could tell she didn’t want to continue telling me about my parents. I tugged at her dress and pleaded her to go on.
      “Well, my dear, I really can’t tell you anything more, other than your mother loved you very much. During the months that she was pregnant with you, she changed. She hardly ate a thing, which made both your papa and me worried. I noticed that when she did eat, it was things like a rare steak or rare prime ribs. She also drank nothing but black coffee and red wine. No matter how often she went to the doctor’s, he proclaimed that her strange eating and drinking habits were normal. I never believed him, but then again, I’ve heard that some women ate stuff like clay while they were pregnant. We noticed that she looked paler than normal, and began wearing turtlenecks and thick sweaters, claiming she was so cold. I should have seen it coming. I should have put my foot down when it came to your father, but she always said to us that she couldn’t live without him. Who was I to tell her what she could or couldn’t do? After all, she truly wasn’t my daughter.
      “During the last month of her pregnancy, your father deserted her. She became very reclusive. It was so hard for us to talk to her. She’d get angry at the littlest of things. I can’t tell you how many times we’d hear her screaming while she slept. I wanted to know what she was dreaming about. She’d kept to herself and refused to seek counseling. Then the night came when she went into labor. So, it was up to us to take her to the hospital. She died that very same night you were born.”
I gasped. I felt like a murderer because I was the cause of her death.
     “What happened to her?” I asked Mama.
      “She wasn’t able to give birth to you the natural way, so the doctor was forced to do an emergency Cesarean. There was so much blood. I knew she was dying and I’m sure she thought she was dying too. I was with her when she spoke her final words and held her hand as she took her last breath. Before she died, she said, ‘Name her after you and me. You’ve been like a real mother to me. The only mother that I had, I should say.’ We were both crying. I held her in my arms as best as I could while the nurses cleaned you up. Then they brought you over so she could hold you in her arms. She held you and kissed your tiny face. The she looked up at me and said, ‘You must promise me something.’ I could only nod my head, because I was losing her so fast. She then said to me, ‘Never let him come for her. He’ll come back! I know he will. He’ll come back and try to take her!’ I leaned over the both of you and kissed both her and your forehead. She smiled one last time, gave you a kiss…and…and then she just stopped breathing. The doctors and nurses tried everything they could to save her, but in the end, they failed. I went into shock and just slowly walked out of the operating room like I was in some kind of a trance and went to your papa. He knew, by the look on my face, that we lost her. You spent a week in the hospital and after all the documents were signed, sealed, and delivered, we were able to adopt you.”
      “I’m glad you did, Mama,” I told her and hugged her.
      She sniffled and used the back of her sleeve from the dress she was wearing to wipe away her tears.       “Her name was also Raven,” she said with a warm smile on her face. “You know, you look just like her.” Mama said hugging me closer to her plump body. Then she released me and stared down into my eyes. I could see she seemed scared about something else. Then she spoke. “You look just like her, except you have his eyes.”
      I wanted to know more about my mother and especially now my father. I was sure he was the reason why I was developing these strange and interesting powers.
     “Mama, what was my father’s name?”
      Her eyes grew big and serious then she turned and looked away from me as if looking into my eyes would force her to say his name. “I won’t speak it, Raven. I absolutely refuse to say his name, so please don’t ever ask me to.” I hugged her and told her I wouldn’t ask her again.
       Eleven years passed since I was told the tale of my beautiful mother, Raven and my mysterious father with ice-blue eyes. I was eighteen now, a senior in high school and planning to attend college to pursue a career in music. One of my best friends, Chella Jenkins, worked for our restaurant so she could save money for college. I too worked for Mama and Papa, just so I could save every penny to use towards school.
      Chella and I were very different from the rest of the teenagers that went to JFK High School. We had mysterious qualities that some kids actually were scared to confront us. It made me feel powerful to know that I could give off a presence that kept the very same kids who picked on me when I was a little girl away from me. Once I hit high school, they never picked on me again. I had matured into a very beautiful young woman, with certain gifts. I could read minds sometimes. I was stronger than the average teenage male. So no one fucked with me. Sure, I heard what they called me, but it didn’t bother me. I actually enjoyed hearing what names they called me. I was called almost everything but human. I was a witch, one day. Then a psychotic killer another day. I was pure evil. And my favorite, I was the daughter of Satan himself! As if!? Not all my so-called gifts prepared me for the pain I would have to suffer. The pain of losing the people I loved the most.
       Everything changed for me the day Darrien entered my life. And I mean everything.