Angel of Death

I used to be a fun-loving girl. That was until last December. The exact date is still blurry. But, I'll never forget it. The day my parents died. I know they were my foster parents, but that didn't mean I didn't love them.

My father, Mark, who used to treat me like his son. But, not that I minded. I hated being treated fragile and weak, mostly because it wasn't true. I was his only daughter, living with two older brothers. But, I was still strong. We would wrestle or play football with them, just like I was his third son.

My mother, Sally, loved me for who I was. She didn't try to keep me away from trying out for my schools football team- which I got denied because I was a girl. (I protested for weeks). She didn't try to force me to be girly, or go shopping like other moms would.

But, everything changed on that December night.

We went out to eat, before we left for vacation in Colorado as we always did for Christmas. We were driving on a bridge, when the car in front of us stopped suddenly. My dad swerved, and we all flew off the bridge. I was still conscious, but it was like something restricted me, and I couldn't move. Finally my older brother, Ethan, grabbed me around my waist and pushed me out of the open window. He followed and guided me to the river bank. Everything was in flashes as the ambulance pulled up, and took me and Ethan away.

It was just me and Ethan. My mom and dad were dead, along with my oldest brother- Nate. Ethan was a year older than me, being fifteen. Nate was about to be nineteen, but died immediately from the impact. My mom was forty-five, my dad being forty-six.

Now here we were, moving to live with our aunt, Jill. By the way, my name is Maximum Ride. I thought you might need to know that. But, now I only go by Max. Just by Max. Anyone who tries Maximum gets a punch to the face or kick to the ribs. I decided this by the amount of memories I had with "Maximum". My mom calling me inside for dinner. My dad calling my name in baseball. Nate Yelling my name as he walked in the house, to give me a rib cracking hug.

But, those were all just bad memories. Memories that still haunt me.

And unfortunately, always will.

More to come peoples! I just had to post this... this is more of a summary...

So, next chapter is the real beginning!

And yeah, I'm that insane writer who brought you Maximum Torture. Haven't read it? Please do! And review!