Chapter 1

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Tears are wasted here. "Today we mourn the loss of Nicolas Hatchet, we pray that his soul will enter eternal life in God's presence." Heaven? I hope not, I hope he suffers but if he does go to heaven then I hope God will condemn me to Hell.


The cold morning air flew my hair across my face and made everyone there shiver. The coffin was open which made many even more sad but I found it comforting to be able to see him dead in a scrappy tweed suit still in his wooden prison. It almost made me smile to know he was defiantly dead but I still felt disgust to look at him ,so peaceful, he may be dead but he's still there in my memory turning my dreams into nightmares.

When the funeral was over my mum glided to the car followed by me and my goth sister Elisabeth. The ride home was ... awkward, mum kept on sighing about how the funeral was "Beautiful and just what he would have wanted" making my day worse. Elisabeth did what she normally does mumble about death and I believe she said something that sounded like "Lucky bastard whenever mum mentioned Uncle Nick.

I was never more relieved to get home, when I got through the front door I forgot why I was so happy to be back. Dad as always was in his pajamas in front of the TV mom took up her normal position of awaiting any and all commands from him, me a Lizzy went to our room. When you enter it you enter our room you see two completely different uses of a cross, Lizzy's side was full of drawings of Gothic style crosses and crucifixes of Jesus in agonising pain. My side had a crucifix; some random stain glass window photos; a desk and some  post cards from my pen pal.  I skipped the pleasantries got into my blue hello kitty pajamas and went to bed while my darling sister carried on her latest picture of the crown of thorns surrounded in blood.

For once I didn't dream.

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