CURSED: The Last of Five Kingdoms.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. If you find it offensive or a trigger of any sort, please avoid. ********************* I have no idea about my true origin. Where I come from, my real parents, age and all the little details a child will be happy to know. My identity was given to me. I wasn't able to differentiate between what was real and fake. Most of my life was between foster care and school until I was lucky enough to be adopted at fourteen. The past fourteen years before my adoption was filled with ugly experiences, but I was still grateful. Grateful for the roof above my head, the three squared meals that I got and the school I was sent to. My foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wales, weren't that bad. Like normal parents, they scolded, reprimanded and rewarded the twenty-five of us. All staying together in their not so big apartment. We were twenty boys and five girls who shared a total of six rooms. The boys got five out of the four-room, four boys to a room and the girls got one room, five of them stayed to get her in the one room. Mr. and Mrs. Wales had no kid of their own. They were two English couples who loved each other so much. They were bright, loving, caring, and supportive. According to them, they took me in at age two and has kept me till now. Where I was and with who I was with before they picked me up in a nearby dumpster, wrapped in white linen and with a note that read, “Protect the boy at all cost. He's OUR only hope.” I would very much love to meet both my parents and whosoever dropped me there. I would personally thank them for leaving white linen, a note and a forsaken curved crescent birthmark that has a roundish looking mark beneath it, in the middle of my back as my possession. Those are the things they left me with. Whosoever that left the note didn't have the decency to sign it or leave a clue of who I was. When I first noticed the birthmark, I asked my foster parents, but they couldn't explain it. They said that they were afraid of me initially. A baby with that kind of outrageous and strange-looking mark, which led them to almost reconsider taking me in. Thank God, they gave up that thought. Who knew what I would have become. The stupid birthmark made me conscious of myself because on many occasions people avoided me once they saw it and those who didn't, tagged me CURSED. I was stigmatized and caricatured. An outcast in foster care and school. It was my friend. The kids made life miserable for me, as I was considered an outcast because I preferred to stay on my own. I wasn't a social person and I lacked self-esteem so, they called me “weird.” It was fine at first because it didn't bother me. But, it became ugly when they played all sorts of pranks on me, which traumatized me greatly. Every so often they poured water on my shorts while I slept and early in the morning, they would accuse me of bedwetting which earned me a lot of scolding from Mrs. Wales. Luck met me on my fourteenth birthday when the news that a woman was coming to process adoption from our foster home. Very rare, right? But, it was my lucky day. “Kids, kids! Quiet! I need you all to be on your best behaviour,” Mrs. Wales ordered. “Why? It's not like anything ever happens in this house,” throwing a pinball on the wall, Anderson joked. The oldest in the home, he was eighteen. He was the football star of the home, tall, handsome, brown hair, brown eyes, perfect face and a hot body. He was kind but hid his kindness under being harsh and controlling. He feared for people to see him as weak. “Yes, I know. But, a peculiar woman has chosen to carry out her adoption here. In our foster care. Isn't that great news?” She clapped a bit out of excitement. “Yahhhhh,” Bleviar mocked, “aren't we all too old for that?” She asked. Bleviar was the same age as I was, fourteen. She was a slender blonde. Very gorgeous and brilliant. Most times, I even fantasized about her being my girlfriend. That would never happen because she hated my very existence. “Yes, I know. But, you can never tell. Luck might be on our side. One of you might be lucky.” Carrying Victoria up, “children, let's get ready. We must impress her.” Victoria was the youngest in the home. She was four, cute, always happy, demanding, fussed around a lot and seek attention all the time. Her hair was black and long. She had blue eyes. As Mrs. Wale walked out of the room to get Victoria ready, everyone scurried off. The younger kids were enthusiastic, wearing their finest clothing, brushing their hair, bring out paintings, some sculptures. Anything that could impress whosoever that was making the adoption. The older kids didn't care because it was rare for teenagers to get adopted. Very rare. Not interested in getting ready, the girls gossiped and squealed at their gossips. The boys went back to playing their games, and those who weren't interested went back to their rooms and shut the doors. I didn't care. Look at me. Who on earth would want to adopt a nerd like me. Not so handsome, not talented, a loner, weirdo with a weird scary birthmark. I wasn't even an option. So I thought. Feeling sad, I went to a corner and started writing the words I dreamt about. Most people had understandable dreams and fantasies, but mine were words, numbers and strange-looking things that I couldn't make meaning out of. When those dreams started, I often woke up screaming, crying, hyperventilating or scared. It woke up the entire or most of the people in the house. They would scold and verbally abuse me for disturbing their sleep. Those dreams started at age three. As years went by, I learned to write them down. When I would wake up, afraid, instead of screaming and crying, I would scramble those things down, on a book. It calmed me down. So, sitting in a corner, near the playground that was covered partly by withered leaves and dirt instead of toys and playthings, I was writing when the most beautiful woman startled me. She was 5'7 (1.7 m)feet tall, thick snowy white curly hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes were grey. They reflected power and authority and fitted rightly into her oval face. She had this dimpled, relaxing and mesmerizing smile. She had a pointed, straight nose and well-shaped lips. She wore a black overall jacket over a nude gown and white thigh-high boots with pencil heels. Her chestnut and tanned skin radiated health and happiness. She full-figured. “Hi,” bending until she was at the same level as I was. “What are you doing here, all alone?” She asked, stroking my hair. I gave her a yeah, right kind of look. As if she hasn't figured it out that I was in the nerd and weird class and no one wanted anything to do with me. Slightly gazing at her, I continued with my writing without answering her question. “What's your name?” She asked again. Please, just go away, I thought to myself. But I knew better not to be disrespectful because I wasn't that kind of kid and Mrs Wales wouldn't take it lightly with me. “Mael,” still scurrying on my book. “Mael,” she repeated like I was unaware that the name was mine. “So, Mael, what are you doing here all alone?” She asked again. Maybe if I answered her, she will let me have some peace of mind. “Am always alone,” I whispered. “And why is that?” Sounding concerned. “Because I am weird,” I was sad saying that and my tone reflected my emotions. “Oh, dear. No one is weird. Everyone is special. It is only a bully that will term someone weird. I don't see you as weird. You look fine to me.” She flashed a genial smile. Giving a weak smile,” You are only saying that because you don't know.” “Know about what?” “The stupid weird birthmark on my back.” "Can you keep a secret," she hushed, leaning into my ear," I have a stupid weird birthmark on my chest, too." It caused me to smile. A genuinely happy, sweet and beaming smile. "I am Miss Amara Vandisia," extending her hands for a handshake, "Nice to meet you, Miss Vandisia." She stood, straightened out her clothe, ran her hands through her hair, "I will see more of you later," she said smiling and walking away. I continued with my writing, briefly glancing up and enjoying the surrounding. For how I was there, I didn't know. Until Chesterfield came running, "Mael Mrs Wales wants to see you." "Why? Am I in some kind of trouble? I panicked. " I don't know. She said I should run and get you, that it is urgent." I hurriedly packed my things and raced with him back to where she was. Readjusting myself, I knocked on Mrs. Wales office. I wasn't properly dressed and that wouldn't sit well with her because she had already instructed us to get ourselves ready. Still dressed in my white turtleneck and black shorts that had stains of dirt on them. I managed to dust some specks of dirt off, which weren't of any good because they barely came off. I heaved a heavy sigh and knocked on the door. "Yes, come in," Mrs. Wales voice boomed from the other side of the door. I opened the door and walked in. Anderson, Bleviar and Victoria lined up, dressed in the most elegant outfit. The woman I met earlier, Miss Vandisia was in the office too. Why was she in the office? Mrs. Wale's office was a small space with a desk, chair, pictures of all the kids that have ever lived in the home and the present ones hung on the wall. There were a few books scattered here and there. "Yes, Mrs Wales. You sent for me?" "I did. Stand over there with Victoria," pointing to the left corner of the room where they all stood while Miss Vandisia sat with legs crossed and facing them. "Are you sure that these aren't your choice? They are the finest we have." Mrs. Wales tried to sound convincing. "Yes, I am sure. I've made my choice," Miss Vandisia said, sounding cool. "Okay." Turning to me," Mael, Miss Vandisia here has selected you for adoption." Anderson and Bleviar looked at me in shock. Victoria who don't understand what was happening kept fussing and moving around the office. She couldn't stay still for a long period. I was equally perplexed at the news. In a hundred years, I didn't think that I would be ever considered. There were better options like Anderson, Bleviar and Victoria. I think that's why Mrs. Wale called them into the office because she also saw them as the better choice. Miss Vandisia smiled at me. A welcoming smile that made me start sobbing. "Are you alright, love?" She asked. I shook my head vigorously. I was crying because this was the best birthday gift that I could and have ever gotten. Of everyone she chose me. Can you keep a secret,” she hushed, leaning into my ear,” I have a stupid weird birthmark on my chest too." It caused me to smile. A genuinely happy, sweet and beaming smile. “I am Miss Amara Vandisia,” extending her hands for a handshake, “Nice to meet you, Miss Vandisia.” She stood, straightened out her clothe, ran her hands through her hair, “I will see more of you later,” she said smiling and walking away. I continued with my writing, briefly glancing up and enjoying the surrounding. For how I was there, I didn't know. Until Chesterfield came running, “Mael, Mrs Wales, wants to see you.” “Why? Am I in some kind of trouble? I panicked. “ I don't know. She said I should run and get you, that it is urgent.” I hurriedly packed my things and raced with him back to where she was. Readjusting myself, I knocked on Mrs. Wales office. I wasn't properly dressed and that wouldn't sit well with her because she had already instructed us to get ourselves ready. Still dressed in my white turtleneck and black shorts that had stains of dirt on them. I managed to dust some specks of dirt off, which weren't of any good because they barely came off. I heaved a heavy sigh and knocked on the door. “Yes, come in,” Mrs. Wale's voice boomed from the other side of the door. I opened the door and walked in. Anderson, Bleviar and Victoria lined up, dressed in the most elegant outfit. The woman I met earlier, Miss Vandisia was in the office too. Why was she in the office? Mrs. Wale's office was a small space with a desk, chair, pictures of all the kids who have ever lived in the home and the present ones hung on the wall. There were a few books scattered here and there. “Yes, Mrs Wales. You sent for me?” “I did. Stand over there with Victoria,” pointing to the left corner of the room where they all stood while Miss Vandisia sat with legs crossed and facing them. “Are you confident that these aren't your choice? They are the finest we have.” Mrs. Wales tried to sound convincing. "Yes, I am convinced. I've made my choice,” Miss Vandisia said, sounding cool. “Okay.” Turning to me,” Mael, Miss Vandisia here has selected you for adoption.” Anderson and Bleviar looked at me in shock. Victoria who doesn't understand what was happening kept fussing and moving around the office. She couldn't stay still for a long period. I was equally perplexed at the news. In a hundred years, I doubted that I would be ever considered. There were better options like Anderson, Bleviar and Victoria. I think that's why Mrs. Wale called them into the office because she also saw them as the better choice. Miss Vandisia smiled at me. A welcoming smile that made me start sobbing. “Are you alright, love?” She asked. I shook my head vigorously. I was crying because this was the best birthday gift that I could and have ever gotten. Out of everyone, she chose me.