The Inn

Prologue

   “Sweetie,” Dad sobbed, “I’m so sorry,” He opened out his arms to me as tears fell freely down his cheeks, “Come here.”

   I shook my head. I refused to believe it. What he said couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

   So instead of jumping into his arms and crying with him, I turned, and fled. The front door flapped openly as the wind crashed through the rattling house and I left.

   Drunk in a state of despair, I let my jelly-like legs carry me weakly though the night with only the spill of the moonlight to guide me down the street…To where…I didn’t know…There was no destination in my eyes, only away. Far, far away, from everyone, and everything.

   My heart hurt, not from running, but it had been broken. Smashed. It was sore, patched and achy.

   That was when an almighty roar overcame me, leaves picked up and whirled wildly, untamed in the air. Bright headlights shone, flashed, and shone again. I couldn’t see clearly, everything was so bright and blurry.

   Sighing, my arms flopped to my sides rather than being clutched around me. I cocked my head so the side, forgetting how much I’d drank, I edged closer to the road, to the curb.

   Stepping forward, down. I swallowed, my throat was dry, scratchy, and sore. But nothing could relieve me of this internal pain that was spreading like poison through my body.

   The headlights grew brighter and brighter, until they were just a white sheen before me. That was when I closed my eyes and moved forward again. To the centre.

   I heard a scream. A squeal of tires. Then everything burned. And I flew.