[stylist] Trials of an honorary Dragon. Chapter 15

[helene ryles]

Chapter 15
You don’t need that by Nadia Murat.
1997 (Two years later).

“I wish I was going home for the holiday,” my friend Mitch wistfully
announced.  He was one of the children at NIRC who never went home.
“No you wouldn’t. Not if you knew what mother was like,” I snapped back.
“At least you’ve got a mother…”
“Everyone’s got a mother, stupid!  Don’t you know anything about biology?”
“Hurry up! The pedal buses are now waiting,” a teacher announced.
Several children groaned.  The large bulky contraptions known as pedal
buses, involved everyone pedalling inside an enclosed space.
“I have a message for Nadira Murat.  You are to stay behind.  Your
mother will be here to collect you, later today,” the teacher
continued.  She was referring to me.  Some of the teachers had started
to call me Nadira after establishing that I was actually female,
although most people called me Nad.
“Lucky Nad, I‘d do anything to get out of a ride on that pedal bus,”
commented a grey-skinned boy.
My stomach did a flip-flop.  I felt anything BUT lucky. I did not
relish the ride back on the pedal bus any more then they did, but I
relished a meeting with mother even less.
I watched the other children leaving for the pedal buses.
I agitatedly clutched my hair.  I’d been waiting for Aunt Liza to
rescue me but she never came.  I felt a lump in my throat whenever I
thought of Aunt Liza.  Why had she abandoned me like this?
When I wasn’t at NIRC I spent time with mother.  I rather not go into
details of what happened to me there.  I suffer from regular
flashbacks whenever I think about my experiences.  I dreaded to think
what would happen next year when I left NIRC to go to a local
mainstream school.  I had already been to visit the school with some
staff at NIRC and took great pains to behave as badly as I could.  As
vile as NIRC was, the idea of being mainstreamed at a day school, and
being subjected to nightly sessions of abuse from mother was much
worse.
What would mother do to me when she read my latest school report?  I’d
set fire to my last two.

The time dragged on.  My friend Mitch tried to engage me in
conversation.   I answered him in monosyllables.
“So what’s up with you then Nad?”
“Mother is going to kill me when she reads my report!”
“Come along Nadira, your mother has arrived,” another teacher
announced, as she entered the room.   I forced myself to wave rather
half heartedly at Mitch.  He looked hurt.
As soon as I came through the door, mother rushed at me.  She had
rolled my offensively bad school report in trembling hands, and was
whacked me several times over the head with it.
“You worthless, ungrateful, no good piece of filth, I’ll wring your
pathetic little neck If you ever dared behave so badly again…” my
mother screamed.

Mother took me to Stilosarka underground railway station where she had
left most of her luggage.     As we approached I saw a couple of tiny
grey-skinned women.  The smallest woman had dark red shoulder length
hair.  She was wearing a black lacy dress which fully exposed her tiny
body and long slim legs. She sat cross legged on a floating brightly
coloured rug.  Her slightly larger companion was dressed in a grubby
white leotard and had short purple hair.  She was calling out to
passers by, inviting them to pay for trips on the flying carpet.
"Want a ride.  It normally costs 10 Dren but I can reduce it to 5 Dren
for you..." the red haired woman asked me in sign language.
"My son doesn't sign!"  Mother told her tartly.
"Yes I do…" I contradicted in sign language.  I gave a little yelp as
mother pinched me.  She yanked me away from the women and their
carpet.
"Be quiet.  Witches like that have absolutely no dignity.  Look how
dirty they are.  They aren't even wearing shoes!"
The lack of footwear hadn't put off anyone else.  In fact a queue had
already formed with several people handing the little women money and
climbing onto the carpet.
I yearned to be among them.  It wasn't just the prospect of riding on
a magic carpet.  One of the ladders into the station had been removed.
 The only other ladder was already in use by people who were leaving
the station.  A queue had formed of people wanting to go down.   The
only other way to get down to the platform was via a long greasy pole.
 I took my glasses off so I wouldn’t see the drop.
"We don't need that thing,” Mother crisply informed me, “Today you are
going to jump."
   "What!" I exclaimed.  I was wondering if my cochlear implant was
malfunctioning.  Surely mother couldn’t have just told me to jump off
the side of the ledge into the station below.  That was extreme, even
for her.
   "You heard what I said.  I'm sick to death of you and your pathetic
little ways.   Your father and I are both witches so you must have
inherited our witchcraft too.   So come along now.  We're late."
   With that I felt mother push me over the sheer drop, into the
station below.  I gave an ear piercing scream as my body hurtled
towards the ground.   I was definitely not floating.
   Just as the ground came perilously near, someone grabbed the back
of my shirt.  A tiny arm slid round my waist as we floated downwards
at a less scary rate.  Despite the rapid deceleration my body still
felt pain as it hit the concrete platform below.
I put my glasses back on, which were securely zipped in my pocket.  I
wanted to see who had rescued me.  It was the little red haired woman.
 She was obviously a very powerful witch to be able to defeat gravity
like that.
Then I noticed the shattered remains of what had once been my speech
processor.  The sight of the broken machine made me feel cold inside.
If it wasn’t for the mysterious woman it could have been my body
broken on the pavement like that.
Before I could thank the little woman, mother jerked me away to board
a train.  I saw some police women glancing through the window of our
carriage as our train departed from the station.  Another one was
talking to the little woman who had just saved my life.
I couldn‘t stop my legs from shaking, and I kept gasping for breath.
Where were we going?  Would mother have another go at killing me?  In
the middle of the journey mother looked surreptitiously round before
moving towards me.  I shrunk back, raising my arms to protect my head
and shut my eyes. I waited like that for her to strike.
She just put a hand in my pocket, leaving behind a small package.