Chapter 3 - Deals with the Devil (Part 1 of 3)

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Copyright © 2012 Dominic Eagle

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CHAPTER 3 - DEALS WITH THE DEVIL (Part 1 of 3)

Thud, thud, thud, thud.

                The rhythmic beating of my heavy heart stirred me from the terrible dreams of which only a man with the most deeply rooted guilt can conceive. My heart ached and fluttered. I tried to inhale air, but my throat seemed to have narrowed, as if God would not allow me any right to the oxygen he had blessed this forsaken planet with. I had sinned far too much for one good deed of saving Laura Hills to redeem me.

My blurred brown eyes tried to capture the time on my bedside clock, and I was sure the digital figures read 4:24am. It was the Saturday morning following the horrendous fire. I stumbled out of bed, with my hair undoubtedly in a tangled mess, and shuffled to my bedroom window. I gazed across the street at Laura’s house. She was so close, yet so far.

About two hours earlier a car had pulled up into their driveway, and Jennifer Hills - along with her now oddly haughtily-walking husband - had helped their injured daughter into the house. Presumably her injuries hadn’t been too substantial; she’d probably just inhaled too many dangerous fumes. The married couple seemed to have remained awake since then, however, and judging from the fact their raised voices were projecting obliviously across the small estate, I could only presume that they weren’t heatedly discussing their daughter’s accident.

I only caught a glimpse of the scene that was unfolding from a faint silhouette cast through the top left window, reflected against disgusting beige-coloured curtains. A male and female-shaped shadow faced one another, and the shadowy hands of the male repeatedly wavered all over the place, in the flustered manner that I very quickly attached to Herbert Hills’ personality.

Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, Herbert’s shadowy hand swung across the bedroom, making contact with Jennifer. The crack it made as it hit her cheek was worryingly loud, but her muffled sobs following the assault were almost inaudible.

“…. That’s what you get… Disrespecting me… Bitch… Who is this man...?”

Those stuttered segments of sentences were all I could make out from the raised voice of Mr Hills, but it was quite obvious that he knew his wife had been unfaithful. How did he find out about me though? Unless, of course, he’d discovered a different affair his wife was having. It seemed plausible, judged solely on the basis Mrs Hills seemed to have had a rushed desire for sexual relations with a student she’d only just met. She must have truly resented this man she called her husband to cheat on him several times; and rightly so. I’d presumed, at first, it was because he appeared to be a grumpy, boring, weak little man, but it was quite the opposite. Mr Hills was violent and abusive.

“James… Are you okay now? Did the doctors fix you up?”

                I snapped away from my window and turned to the open doorway where my nine year old brother was stood, clutching his stuffed giraffe toy tightly to his chest, and wearing a ridiculous set of pyjamas with elephants and clowns littering every square inch. The kids at school would’ve laughed at the sight of him, but I preferred it to the nuisance child who’d sworn at me earlier and caused me to lose my keys.

                “I didn’t need any fixing up pal, just got a little burnt on the cheek. Nothing serious. You shouldn’t be up at this time anyway.”

                “I couldn’t sleep ‘cause of those new neighbours.”

                “You and me both, Tom. You and me both. Go back to bed.”

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