Thicker than Blood - Book One (Watty Awards 2012)

Chapter Sixteen

Heya, Update a little early but I just had to when I saw I had 100 fan's all of a sudden! That's why this chapter is dedicated to my 100th fan. 

Thank you all!

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My barefooted footsteps echoed on the tiled floor in the hall, careless about all the white sand I was tracking in. The house always echoed if mom wasn't there, it was her presence that filled this place and made it Home.

I tossed my bag to the floor, knowing mom would probably scold me for that later but not caring about it. With her easy smile and always laughing eyes I knew she could never be mad at me for long.

Faith in that knowledge only a nine year old could possess.

Thinking mom wasn't home yet because of the echo I ran into the kitchen. If I was lucky the cookie jar would be on the lower shelve and I'd be able to reach it if I climbed on the counter.

I skidded to a halt just inside the kitchen and stared at the scene before me. My nine year old mind couldn't quite understand what it was seeing.

Mom.

Seated at the kitchen table, as always dressed in a flowery summer dress that made her look like a fairy stepped right out of a fairytale. So graceful and elegant, movements lithe and sure, like those of a dancer.

I loved watching my mom move, loved it even more when she danced. My mom would smile then and it made her look so beautiful... My mom was light and she shone like no other adult ever did, because my mom had stories. So, so many stories.

But today there was no easy smile, no laughter in her vibrant brown eyes that looked so much like mine. Her light had dulled and her face was pale and drawn.

'Mom?' I asked hesitantly, my voice trembling as fear curled in my tiny stomach. Had someone hurt her? The fierce need to protect my flighty mother with her delicate features shook my small body.

She hadn't noticed me yet but at the hesitant call her head whipped in my direction. Panic and fear pulsating in the air.

'No Amy, run! Not my daughter! Please?' sheer terror reflected in my moms melodic voice, a voice made to sing.

Confused I turned around, I wasn't going to leave my mom alone. If she was scared I needed to help her!

A hand closed around my throat, tight and constricting and above that red eyes gleamed in a face made of shadows. 'Hello little Angel.'

I woke screaming and drenched in cold sweat. My mind filled with swirling darkness and painful memories. My heartbeat pounding in my ears, a wild beating against my ribcage. I was shaking and hot tears were streaming down my face, tears I hardly even noticed.