Chapter 2

"The hills are alive! With the sound of music! Tra-la-la-la!" Mum warbled through the kitchen, clattering pots and pans.
She turned when she hear my squelchy footsteps.
"Kat! What have you been doing?!" She exclaimed, her eyesbrows touching the sky.
"Nothing." I replied, rummaging through boxes, looking for my clothes.
Mum watched me for a minute.
"Don't do that Kat, you'll mess everything up." She said lightly.
I grunted a reply and ransacked another box.
"Kat!" Mum groaned, before turning around to resume unpacking.
I found my clothes a trudged upstairs to my new bedroom.
It was a small attic room, with a large window at one corner, a bed in the other and littered with boxes filled with my stuff.
I paced the room a few times, before suddenly I saw something.
It was pretty small and was patterened with swirling flowers, roses and daisies.
A small, sunset pink, glass bead.
Inside was a swirling pink haze, liquid, swirling around the slippery glass like sliding on ice.
The pattern was made of some sort of ink, very black, very intense.
The flowers were swirly and exceptionally detailed, considering it was handmade (obviously) and it must be almost impossible to write with ink on a slippery sphere.
There was something unusual about it, it wasen't the sort of bead you'd buy in Tesco or Morrisons, it was more the kind of bead you got in a hippy stall, or a mystic shop.
I racked my brain.
I was certain it wasn't mine, all my stuff was in boxes, neatly closed with gaffa tape, impossible for anything to get out.
Well....
My thoughts wandered and I slipped it into my pocket, before going downstairs.