That
night, I dreamt of before.
My mother had been always sad. That’s how I
remembered her. I didn’t have one memory or a photo of my mum happy. My
memories start from the age of four, people say it’s not possible, but I have
them and my mum has been always sick. I remember sitting on the stairs and the
doctors talking to my father. I wasn’t sure at the time what they were
discussing, but later I learned it was because my mother wasn’t getting better.
Dad had to work, there was no two ways about it so
mom took care of us. The first day, my dad was worried when he left me and my
brother, who was only three at the time, in my mother’s hands. That first day,
I was five. I stayed in my room and kept my brother with me, playing a tea
party with Mr. Bear and Diana, my rag doll. Hunger was one reason for leaving
the room. I would pass the sitting room door where my mother sat, staring out
the window. Her brown eyes darted to me, freezing me to the spot. I was afraid
to move, but I didn’t know why. I
just felt afraid of her. I would make a peanut butter sandwich for myself and some Ready brek for
Sam; I had seen dad make it before so I was careful. It took me a while as I
pulled the chair around the kitchen, reaching the presses and the microwave. I
turned to go back upstairs, but my mother blocked the door. I stood still,
hoping she wouldn’t see me.
She was always so quiet, but on this day, she spoke,
“If your dad thinks that I don’t mind you and Sam, he will send you away and
you’ll never see us again.”
She knelt down, taking the food from my hands and
placing it on the floor. Her
face softened and she hugged me. I didn’t hug her back. She cried, saying she
was sorry for everything. She pulled back and handed me my food and returned to
her seat in the sitting room. I raced up to Sam. His food was cold, but he ate
it. He was quiet for a child, well, I realized later on that three year olds
are not always as good. We would play up there for the rest of the day until
Dad got home from work. I would race into his arms and hug him tightly, knowing
everything would be okay.
“Did you have fun with your mum, today?” Dad asked.
I
thought of what mommy had said to me; I didn’t want to go away from Daddy or
Sam. So I nodded, smiled and went back to playing with Mr. Bear. This became
our routine for the next month.
Memories flashed through my mind, snippets of
talking to Sam, playing games, saying goodbye as Dad left for work and greeting
him when he got home. My mother’s empty eyes, and then the memories stopped,
slowing down to another one.
“Sam, I’m going to the toilet, you stay here with
Mr. Bear.”
Sam
nodded and continued to pour tea for us all. I closed the bedroom door behind
me so he would stay in. He was too small to reach the handle. I raced down to
the bathroom. The door was open. My mother was lying on the white tile floor.
The tiles were red. She looked so white and the knife Daddy always told us not
to touch lay in her hand. I noticed that her arm was cut real badly. I didn’t
run to her or cry as I was too afraid of what stood in the corner of the
bathroom.
A dark figure, like a big man, with a cloak over him
stared down at my mum. He scared me. My breath came out in small puffs of cold
air. I could see the water that dripped from the tap was frozen solid, held in
midair. I looked back at the man, frost was starting to grow on his cloak. He
wasn’t the bad man that was always around Mommy. He was different, but still he
felt wrong.
I ran
back to Sam and closed the door, pulling
him into the corner of the room. It was getting so cold that our breaths were
visible in front of us. Sam started to cry, but I pulled him beside me while
crossing my legs so I wouldn’t pee, but it was so cold and it took Daddy a long
time to get home and I didn’t want to go into the bathroom where mommy and the
man were.
I could hear my daddy’s scream before he burst into
the room, gathering me and Sam in his arms. He was crying. I had never seen
daddy cry before.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I wet myself,” I said.
My
dress was ruined. I loved this dress. It made me feel like a princess.
“Did you go into the bathroom?” Dad asked, his voice
sounded scared, maybe he’d seen the bad man, but then I remembered all the
times he said that it wasn’t real, and that I shouldn’t make up stories, so I
didn’t say anything about the man. I didn’t want daddy to lock me in my room
again.
“Mommy’s hurt and she was near the toilet I couldn’t
go”
He held me tightly and, at the moment, I thought
everything would be okay, but I was so wrong.
***
Book &
Author Details:
Hunters by Aoife Marie Sheridan
(Demon Series #1)
Publication date: October 1st 2014
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal
(Demon Series #1)
Publication date: October 1st 2014
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal
Synopsis:
Abigail is
nineteen. Her job, she hunts demons.
Her life so
far has been tough. Having witnessed her family’s death and her mother’s
suicide, she’s been taken in by a priest, who believes her when she says that
she sees ghosts. Father Peter trains her as a demon hunter with three other
members, one being Daniel, who isn’t what he seems.
But when a
possession goes wrong, and ghosts start to attack Abigail, the tight rope she
has on her emotions soon starts to loosen. Abigail draws the unwanted attention
of the Reote, and she finds out a lot more than she was willing to learn.
Knowledge is
power, but for Abigail, it’s her undoing, and the only thing keeping her
together is Daniel.
Purchase:
Will be
99c from October 20-27!!
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Hunters-Demon-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00NLRMJ5S/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1411466472&sr=1-7&keywords=hunters
Amazon.co.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hunters-Demon-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00NLRMJ5S/ref=twoen-20
Amazon.co.uk: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hunters-Demon-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00NLRMJ5S/ref=twoen-20
Createspace: https://www.createspace.com/4652900
AUTHOR
BIO:
Aoife Marie Sheridan has loved reading from a very young
age, starting off with mills and boon's books, given to by her grandmother her love
for romances grew, by the age of 14 she had read hundreds of them.
Aoife had a passion for writing poetry or in her eyes her journal entries. It was something she did throughout her teens and into her twenties. Aoife won first place for two of her poems and had them published at a young age of just nineteen. Realising she needed to get a real job (What writing isn't) she studied accountancy and qualified working in that field for many years, until her passion for reading returned and she found Maria V Snyder. Poison study one of her favourite books has been read and re-read countless times.
Aoife's first book Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) came to be after a dream of a man and woman on a black horse jumping through a wall of fire and the idea of Saskia was born. Now with her first novel published and taking first place for Eden Forest with Writers Got Talent 2013, Aoife continues to write tales of fantasy and is currently working on her third book for the Saskia Trilogy amongst other new works.
To contact Aoife you can email her at aoifesheridan101@gmail.com
Aoife had a passion for writing poetry or in her eyes her journal entries. It was something she did throughout her teens and into her twenties. Aoife won first place for two of her poems and had them published at a young age of just nineteen. Realising she needed to get a real job (What writing isn't) she studied accountancy and qualified working in that field for many years, until her passion for reading returned and she found Maria V Snyder. Poison study one of her favourite books has been read and re-read countless times.
Aoife's first book Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) came to be after a dream of a man and woman on a black horse jumping through a wall of fire and the idea of Saskia was born. Now with her first novel published and taking first place for Eden Forest with Writers Got Talent 2013, Aoife continues to write tales of fantasy and is currently working on her third book for the Saskia Trilogy amongst other new works.
To contact Aoife you can email her at aoifesheridan101@gmail.com
Author
links:
Website: www.aoifemariesheridan.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Aoifemariesheri
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Aoifemariesheri
Twitter: https://twitter.com/aoifesheri
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