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Prologue
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When lightning meets thunder...
Quinn sat under a low-reaching tree at the far edge of the graveyard. Her knobby knees were tucked under her chin and her hair fell free down her back. Gravestones stretched the length of the space in front of her and the wind whistled amongst them, making the dreary air seem cheerful.
A bright ten year old, it was strange to find Quinn in such a place. But she was, curled up and peacefully silent.
Though dismal and awfully quiet, Quinn found the graveyard strangely comforting. To her it provided a place of solace and peace, a refuge from the world. Her thoughts were her company, and her imagination her friend.
Simply stated, the graveyard was an escape from everything. Even mother.
Mother was high again.
Quinn knew after watching her mother raid the cabinets for food, hands shaking like they were having seizures. Of course she didn't find any, she'd eaten all of it the last time she had the munchies.
Besides that, there was never any food in the house anyway. Mother's friend who brought her strange pills and powders was always having parties at Quinn's house with his friends. If any food had slipped past mother, it was sure to be gone by the time the party ended.
Quinn wasn't sure those were even real parties though.
The were scary, an enigma that she never wanted to understand. The people who attended were always dazed with red eyes and constantly sniffing.
Sometimes they laughed manically.
Sometimes they yelled.
Most became quiet, lost in a drugged time bubble.
Shaking her head, Quinn thought of something else to remove those memories. They reminded her that she wasn't normal, that her mother didn't love her more than those chemicals she always needed. If she even loved Quinn at all.
The apple blossom tree that generously gave shade fluttered softly in the wind, casting pink flowers on and all around Quinn.
Laughing, she quickly brushed them out of her hair and stood up. Her lanky legs moved towards the tree's trunk and with practised precision, she began to climb up. She stopped at the highest branch and carefully lifted herself onto it, gaining a bird's view of the whole church yard.
A white church with a chipped steeple resided to the east of the graves. It had been there since the 1800s, but since 1931 was out of use. The local people still had Christmas there though, out of tradition.
The graves went further back.
One family, the Goldsteins, dated all the way back to 1675. Even old Nick's ancestors dated back to that time. And strangely enough, the job had been passed down to each generation.
Nick was the up-keeper and also Quinn's friend, and though she didn't know it, knew her troubles. It was one of the reasons why he hadn't chased her off the first time he found her under the apple blossom tree. But mostly he let her stay because the girl was sweeter than sugar.
Her heart was still kind, despite the lot life had given her.
Quinn gazed down at the yard, ignoring her growling belly. She hadn't had breakfast because the neighbor was late getting to work and she didn't want him to catch her going through his trash like she usually did. Mother was constantly talking about these 'social people' that kept coming to the house to take her away, and Quinn was afraid if the neighbor caught her he'd call them.
