Prologue

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16th August, 1956

Brentford, London

I glanced up at the large clock on the town hall as I walked down the streets of London, and shivered slightly in my thin dress. I hadn't meant to stay so late. But we always did talk for too long. That was what best friends did, wasn't it? Talk about anything and everything? But there was nothing all that exciting about my life, or hers, save for the mysterious rose that had been lain on her porch steps every morning for the last week. It was speculating over this most strange and oddly romantic of gestures from an unknown suitor that had meant I'd stayed for so long that night.

I crossed my arms over my chest in an attempt to stop the cold winds penetrating my clothes, and hurried on down the path, wishing beyond belief that I'd thought to bring a coat or a shawl. My mother had always told me never to leave the house without one, particularly in London. I still wasn't used to the bustling of the big city, having grown up in a small village in Essex.

My heels clicked along the concrete, the sound resounding loudly in the silence of the dead, black night. I wished I'd taken up my friend's request to walk home with me. There was something about the strange, foreign quiet that set me on edge. After all, London was alway busy, even in the foreign of the night. But not tonight.

I glanced behind me suddenly as I sensed something behind me. There was, of course, nothing there. I shook my head at my silly fears, but I picked up my pace slightly, not wanting to linger outside. The shadows unnerved me, and the sooner I was inside my house, the better I'd feel. I could curl up in my own bed and read a book. I could forget the continued rumours about the eleven years ended ended war, him doing this, and her saying that.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something move. This time, I froze, and spun around, searching the blackness behind me for a person. Perhaps it was just a cat... But the raised hairs on the back of my head told me otherwise. Quickly, I moved forwards again, nearly jogging. All thoughts of behaving like a respectable, controlled lady were thrown of of the proverbial window as fear broke out across my mind.

A snap behind me made my heart pound, and I broke into a fast run, my breaths coming quickly from fear. What on Earth was behind me? Why was I so scared of shadows and a snap? At the thought, I slowed down, and continued on my way home in a more dignified manner. I dreaded to think what old Mrs Riley would say if she happened to see me running from nothing at this hour. She'd make up some ridiculous story, I was sure.

I was nearly home. Just five minutes more, and I would be safe inside the walls of my place. I could leave behind whatever strange fantasy it was that my mind was conjuring up. I knew that I'd be thinking back to what had been discussed earlier. The Cullens were an odd family indeed. They'd moved to Brentford from America, apparently, and they certainly kept to themselves. From rumours, I gathered that their youngest daughter, Miss Alice, was my age. I'd never ask her myself though. She was the strangest of them all.

I was snapped quickly from my thoughts by another movement behind me. My heart began to thud again as I looked around, and again, I found nothing behind me. I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes in an effort to calm myself, and then turned back to continue home. I was all of two minutes away from my front door, and safety.

And then I was sprawled across the floor, gasping as pain radiated through my body. A figure stood above me, a strange, manic grin on its face. It was a man not much older than myself. His greasy blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his eyes held a terrifying hunger. Hunger for what, I had no idea. The way he pulled his lips back from his teeth made him look feral and animalistic.

I opened my mouth to let out a scream, which would preferably to attract the attention of some strong young man that could help me out of my predicament, when the man leapt forwards and threw me sideways, causing my head to smack hard against the wall of a building. I cried out in pain, and felt blood trickle down the side of my face.

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