Anna Kirchner - Little Black Bird

Little Black Bird

By Anna Kirchner

Published by Gurt Dog Press

All rights reserved. No partof this book may be used or reproduced in any manner withoutwritten permission of the publisher, except for thepurpose

of reviews.

Chapter artwork and editing by Nem Rowan

Cover design by Karolina Wucke (Instagram:@wucke.illustration)

Rear cover font by James Paul Fajardo

This book is a work offiction and all names, characters, and incidents are fictional orused fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people or events iscoincidental.

Copyright 2020 AnnaKirchner

Digital ISBN978-91-986187-0-9

Print ISBN978-91-986187-1-6

To everyone who feels like they don'tbelong.

I hope you'll find your people.

In the Polish language, allletters are pronounced and r 's are rolled. The accent falls onthe second syllable from the last. For example, Polish 'Artur' witha strong r and t soundsdifferent to English 'Arthur.' 'Zuzanna' sounds similar to'Susannah' but the s 's are replaced with stronger z 's and both n 's are pronounced. W 's are pronouncedlike v 's, sz sounds like sh, and j sounds like along y . As thestory takes place in Poland, Polish spelling is used even in thecase of demons that are better known in English by their Russiantransliteration (such as Baba Yaga, zmiy or domovoi).

Names:

Wiktoria Victoria / Wiki Vicky / Wiwi Vivi

Ada Ah-dah

Julia Yulia

Eliza El-ee-za

Patryk Patrick

Laura L -oww-rah

Tomasz Toh-mash

S tranik Strah-zh-neek

Lisek (Lisku) Lee-sek(Lee-skoo)

Beata Beh-ah-tah

Twardowski Tvar-do v-skee

Dawid Dah-vid

Stanisaw Stan-ee-swav

Mariusz Mah-ri-ush

SlavicM ythology:

wito Plonw Sh-vi-en-toPloh-nov

Rusaka Russ-aow-kah

BabaJaga Baba Yaga

Wgliszek - Ven-glee-shek

mij Zh-mee

Domownik Doh-mov-neek

Pierun (O, Pierunie!) Pe-eh-run (Oh, Pe-eh-ruh-nya!)

Jare Gody Jah-reh Goh-duh

Chmurnik Hm-uhr-nik

Upir Uh-peer

Wia Vi-wah

Leszy Lesh-uh

Weles Veh-less

Nawia Nah-v ee-uh

Jawia Jah-vee-uh

Chors H orse

Tenements a term used in Central Europe todescribe old, often pre-war buildings that are divided into flatsand are usually found in city centres. They include some of thebest and worst properties and, therefore, living in a tenement doesnot carry any social stigma.

Coal oven a high, tiled oven where coal isburned in order to heat a flat. Part of an old heating system,still popular in some tenements.

Once upon a time, in a cursed city, threemagic-users set out to summon a devil. They were lucky. The devil,for its own nefarious reasons, cared about their goal as much asthey did, so it gave them a good bargain.

Their worst fears came true.

The first magic-user had to give up theirname and magical life, both erased from everyone's memory.

The second one had to give up their magicallife knowingly, fearing any mention of it ever since.

The third one had to give up their lifealtogether, putting many more at risk.

One of my earliest memories is from when Iwas around four years old. My abilities had just startedmanifesting: objects would fly around, electricity wouldn't work,and water would burst out from a tap without warning. But what hadcrossed the line was when the cooker knobs had turned themselveson. We were lucky that dad had smelled gas in time.

To top it all, my telekinesis made mephysically ill.

My mum had dragged me from doctor to doctor,but they couldn't find anything wrong with me. In the end, she'dgiven up. She'd had no clue on how to deal with me, and dad hadn'tbeen much help either, terrified of what I was becoming.

That was when my grandma had stepped in: shewas going to take me to an exorcist.

In a dark room lit with candles, he had satme down on a chair. The strong scent of incense lingered in theair. Years afterwards, this smell alone was enough to make meshiver. I was terrified out of my mind when the priest beganchanting in Latin.

But nothing happened. I wasn'tpossessed.

Instead, he' told me that I was evil. Longafterwards, his words still rang in my head from time to time:"You're evil. You're cursed. You'll bring doom to all those whocare about you."

It all came back to me the moment I crossedthe threshold of our summer house. This used to be my favouriteplace on Earth, but now it just triggered bad memories. Here, Rafihad seen my bloodshot eyes and dishevelled hair and had knownsomething was wrong. I'd tried to block him on this very doorstep,to hold him back before he went and did something we'd both regret,but Rafi was bigger, stronger, more stubborn, and hell-bent onkeeping me out of harm's way. He'd always played the role of myolder brother, not a younger cousin. I couldn't stop him.

He'd got it all wrong and I told him as muchwhen he' came back, his knuckles bloodied. It was always me hurtingothers, not the other way around.

Rafi had collapsed over there, on a batteredsofa that was older than any of us.

"I know," he'd said. "But if the bastardhadn't pushed you too far, you wouldn't have had to protectyourself."

This had all happened the previous summer.I'd set my foot in the summerhouse only once since then and hadbegged my mum to leave immediately. Now, the familiar warmth creptover my skin and I took a deep breath, calming myself before mycontrol slipped. I didn't want anything to move unless I' touchedit with my fingers.

"Taking in what you've been missing out onthis summer?" KarinaRafi's sister and my best friendstopped by myside.

The summerhouse was nothing more than atiny, slightly mouldy-smelling cabin, one in a grid of dozens ofsimilarly self-built constructions near a river, within cyclingdistance from the city. It was so small that if all of us wanted tosleep there, we had to set up tents outside between a carrot patchand plum trees in the tiny garden. The furniture barely heldtogether, the floorboards creaked under our footsteps and insectsbuzzed everywhere. We'd spent every summer and warmer weekend theresince I could remember. I used to count the days until we wouldreturn.

Today, I couldn't wait to get out.

This was the place where I'd realised that Imight not be able to have a normal life after all. Here, my worriesthat my powers would keep other people at bay had been reaffirmed.Here, I'd started questioning whether I even liked boys at all, orwhether my entire life had been just one great game of pretend.Here, though I hadn't known it yet, my life was about to becompletely shaken up again.

"Says the one who spent the whole holidayinternet-stalking a guy who doesn't know she exists," I replied."At least we've got Wi-Fi at home."

"First, some of us could use a life outsideof the internet. Second, I'm not stalking him, I'm appreciating hisbeauty. It's all about aesthetics. And Simon's well aware of myexistence." She puffed her lips. "Well, I hope so, anyway. We'vebeen going to the same school for six years now."