Darkness At My Fingertips

Prologue

Six Months Earlier
The door slams shut behind her and she silently screams in frustration at the utter stupidity of her husband.
"I'm not coming back, Jordan!" she calls, and runs down the path to the car that shines brightly in the early morning sun.
She might come back. Maybe. Her daughters would miss her, and there would be all the legal stuff concerning them; there is no way she'll let him look after them. Plus, this is sort of his car she's running to and, although they are still married at the moment, it feels too much like theft for her to keep it. She might return it later, when she calms down.
If she calms down.
But now, honestly, she doesn't care about him.
With a flick of her wrist, the engine starts, a roaring power beneath her. The familiarity of it calms her slightly. Maybe she was being a bit overreactive?
Maybe not. He was being an idiot, after all.
As the car soars past the cityscape she knows so well, she feels the aching hunger inside her stomach and curses her own stupidity for not eating before. She is going to work, and they won't allow her to eat there, plus she's already late so there's no way she would have time to stop off on the way.
Her stomach growls again but she ignores it this time. She'll be ok.
Well, probably.
It's a new job, one she started last week after her old company went bankrupt and she was made redundant. This one isn't as flexible or convenient, as is obvious from the clock on the dashboard, reading 6:45. The last one wasn't great, either, but this one's worse.
Upon seeing the clock, she curses; she's very late. At least the roads are clear. Though they would be clearer if she had left earlier...
Her stupid husband. It's all his fault! They say husbands and wives are meant to love each other forever, but couldn't he just think that this job might be what is best for them? For their family? For her, for him, for their girls? But, no. He has to complain.
As she nears her workplace, her stomach growls again, and she feels the hunger deep within, gnawing away at her insides like a mouse. Five hours until lunch, and then she can eat.
That doesn't make it feel any better.
Suddenly, a blackness seems to seep up her vision from her cheeks. The car starts to sway and her vision blurs, making her squint to see the road ahead. What's going on? Her head pounds and spots appear across her vision as nausea creeps up her throat from her stomach. She closes her eyes to try and clear the spots, but it makes no difference; all she can see is darkness, creeping closer and closer, making her world go blacker and blacker.
She passes out, falling forwards onto the wheel. The car swerves and hits something, knocking it over, before slamming into a railing, denting the car's bonnet and damaging the railings considerably.
The driver, now also unconscious, lurches forwards upon impact and hits her head on the windscreen.
Let's just say... It isn't very good for her.