I'm His Vessel

KIAN’S POV: Finally, all was well. After enduring for years, I finally had it all going right. My thesis and defense were the only thing stopping me from graduating right now- forget the exams. Even if I wrote them drunk and blindfolded, I'm still going to get an A so that's nothing to worry about. I have job offers from St. Margaret’s teaching hospital, The Association of The Human Mind and Psychology (The HUMAP) in New Orleans and even the school is offering to retain me, yes me! As a lecturer! The jewelers from Macary n Co. just sent me an email that my ring was ready. The one I would later use to propose to my girlfriend in a romantic skyline dinner I have planned in three days. My girlfriend, soon to be my fiancée Zoey Kravitz, okay I'm kidding, it's an inside joke that happened two seasons ago, Zoey Addams told me about how she also had two job offers. One in the school and the other? Shocking, also in New Orleans! It's like I'm heaven's golden child. But in truth, the reality is far from it. I've had to crawl my way up to have an opportunity to be here. My dearest Aunt, Aunt Carrie never made it a secret as to how I was the bastard and curse of the family and my existence was what put my mother in the coma she’s in. According to the bits and pieces of cursing and insults I've received throughout the years; my birth was a rather “odd” one. And that's me putting it mildly. I've always liked birds growing up. They always seemed to oddly understand and always brought bits and pieces of odd things they would pick up. Maybe that's why thousands of them showed up circling the sky on the day I was to be born. My Aunt Carrie was the one who drove my mother to the hospital with her beaten down Buick (that is still alive). She always shuffles and scurries off whenever the birds come to visit me. She shouts as if I'm the devil's spawn saying I should stop performing dark magic in her house. I would be denied supper whenever the birds came… that happened every night so I knew to stock up well on food- well the porridge gruel I was given in the morning and afternoons. It was the summer of my eighteenth birthday when everything changed. Like every other day, I was selling my overpriced lemonade just right outside at the corner of the rich people block (I wasn't allowed to set my stand inside because of the chair lady's plastic daughter), it was sweltering hot and business was slow. I had only made $29 dollars and it wasn't noon yet. You have to know on my best days, I have made a little over a quarter of $10,000 in one morning so today was looking peachy for me. “Hey! Bus boy!” It was a distasteful name I acquired after unsuccessfully applying for a job at the train station but the name stuck like rubber to tar on a hot summer day just like today. I removed my visor from my face to adjust my sight and speaking of the devil, standing there in full plastic glory, Sharleigh. She was a product of neglect and just everything that goes wrong when you ignore your child. The only reason she has that name is because her family was so sure they were getting a boy that Charlie to Sharleigh. They didn’t even have the decency to change the name. “Bus boy, I'm talking to you!” She shouted, waking me out of my musings. “What do you want, Charlie? I mention it in a singsong tone. “Who-who is Char- Charlie?!” she sputtered and gasped looking around nervously before sighing in relief when no one was around to hear me. “Why you of course” I gave her my biggest and widest smile. “Well that's not my name it's, Sharleigh!” “And mine's Kian. Nice to meet you” “Nice try busboy but you know what? I don't have time for this.” She puts on her signature smile that lets me know she’s about to mess with me before continuing, “I came by to tell you about how my mother is one of the organizers for the fundraising to make it better, I suggested she also does a lunch buffet with free ice-cream, ice pops and lemonade” She gives me a smile before raising her middle finger and driving off in the pink abomination she calls her car. That b***h! That's why business is slow today. This wasn't the first time Sharleigh messed with me and every time I've had to endure because her daddy has blood money (her great granddaddy owned slaves) and her mother was stuck up. You know what? I've had it! Today I'm taking a stand! I'll show them not to mess with me! I'm going right to their fundraiser for the rich stuck up and I'm burning it all up to the ground! . . . . . . . . . . . Fifty minutes later, I'm on my way home dragging my lemonade stand cart behind me. I was pouring out all my negative feelings in the chicken thigh I was holding. It was absolutely delectable and I'm pretty sure the remaining of said chicken in my cooler would taste like heaven when I get home. I had gone to the fundraiser with my cooler to try and trick some rich idiots into paying for my lemonade but I tossed that plan out the window when I saw what the fundraiser was for. It was a fundraiser for an orphanage in the county for disabled children. The noble notion itself was so pure I could've wept. The crowd and the general public seemed to be lapping it all up with their tears and donations. And so, I decided to wreck the event. Cause tell me why three years ago, Maya- one of my ravens, I named them. Oh yes, Maya tells me about how the orphanage is not real and all the children there are children they borrowed from another orphanage in another county for the pictures and the public eye. It was a sham. All of it. This was a front that the rich people in the rich people block (I still don't know how to pronounce the street) came up with to launder money and to avoid paying taxes. So here they are! Using fake children once again! With fake smiles and gestures stealing my business with overpriced lemonade! I wasn't going to stand for it. So, a quick mental call to Maya and twenty minutes later, they were all shrieking and running towards their cars when rats and birds attacked their fundraiser. That left only the servers and a few seconds of putting up a fight, they also gave up and ran away. So here I was alone, with the buffet and the cold treats. I tossed out my lemonade and quickly filled the cooler with expensive food I only see on tv. I didn't care what it was, I was just stuffed. For once, I was very glad I had an oversized cooler. The remaining food, which was very little, I sat and dined like a king. I also didn't forget to stuff my cooler with ice cream and ice pops. After stuffing myself I quickly left because I don't want to be caught and asked to pay for the buffet I cleared. So here I am almost at home with a chicken thigh in one hand and food that can last for about a week in the other. Aunt Carrie had a night shift so I was spared having to have a lie as to why I had all that food she would never give me. I was fine dining for once in my life. A feeling came across me and I knew Maya was around. I turned and my cheeky bird was also biting from the chicken. “Doesn't it taste delicious Maya? All in my hard day's work?” At her side eye, I apologize. “I know I know I couldn't have done it without you” If anyone else were here, they'd think I've gone mad talking to myself but somehow, I was able to understand Maya- not in words but in like feelings. Like I could feel what she was saying. “And the rats too, I know Maya” “Well I don't know? How the hell am I supposed to know how to cook something I can't afford?” I reply when she asks why I can’t cook chicken. Maya’s eyes twinkled a certain way but I just ignored her and continued eating. Something dropped on the floor and I went to pick it up. It was a little velvet sachet purse with strings that tied it shut. “Maya isn't it a little too late for my birthday?” An eye roll was the only answer Maya gave me. “Fine! Fine! I'll open it stop nagging” “Oh, my word!” I gasped. Inside the sachet was a little brooch so red in color it almost looked like it was blood personified itself. It was surrounded by black diamonds and shaped to look like a thorned vine or a rose? I couldn't quite tell. “Where did you get this?” I ask. “Oh, I shouldn't worry about that? How much do you think it's worth? Is this real?” “Well duh, I can't wear it. What if I'm accused of stealing it?” Maya knows better than to suggest that I wear it in public. Maya looked offended that I wouldn't be wearing her gift. “Fine. if I sell it, I'll buy you the signed autograph of Tom Hardy.” “Ouch!” The brooch pin mysteriously pricks my hand. “Kian… What ha- “ Was the last thing I heard before I fainted. ‘Maya can talk?’