1 Prologue

Afraid is what I am.

Fearful for my life.

I should have listened to his warnings, the shame and regret cling to me like the stench that grips a decaying body.

Sadly, I think I'd soon be one.

Death at this point seems inevitable.

My feet kept pushing my already tired body forward even if it knew the heart and vital organs that keep the blood pumping to it and keeps it functional might soon meet its end.

The wind keeps pushing at me like it wants me to slow down, well I'm not having any of that.

The night itself holds its breath in silence and anticipation, dreadful for what may become of me.

My wig had long been grabbed by a tree's branch, I didn't have the time to laugh at my predicament.

If you were in my shoes laughing would be anywhere but near your mouth.

In a way I am thankful I lost the long silver coloured wig, it would have been a distraction.

My wig cap feels almost non-existent on my head, another thing I'm thankful for.

Luckily, I'm in a blouse and black leggings, so I am as comfortable as one could be when running for their life. My black sandals have straps that cling to my ankles for fear of falling off and me leaving it behind without so much as a glance.

I couldn't see or hear them running behind me some minutes ago, but I refuse to be fooled.

Their supernatural abilities are supposed to make it as easy as one–two–three to catch me, so I knew they were only playing a game of cat and mouse with me or did I manage to lose them?

I don't even think it's possible, I'm sure they're playing with me like a cat does when it catches a mouse, only to kill it to make of it a meal.

Unfortunately, I am the mouse.

Forgive my rude and mannerless introduction, it's hard to run for my life and keep up with my moral standards.

My name is Isabella Quinn, I wish I could say this is a sappy love story and I'm running away from the love of my life or that sort of shit.

Please pardon my language, but I believe if you were in my shoes you'd utter worse curse words than this.

My life is obviously in danger, just in case you aren't paying attention to me or too slow to catch on.

Argh! I'm sorry for my rudeness, can you blame?! I'm furious at myself and now I'm directing the anger to you. It's not an excuse but do accept my apologies.

I'm just so mad at myself!

I made a huge mistake that could cost me my life and I doubt calling on my father for help would do me any good. I think I'll go unanswered, especially after my blatant disobedience.

You see, the thing is I disobeyed my father when I should have listened to him, I was so edge bent on being a completely different person from who I was as a child.

Just the thought of my useless childhood rises bile to my mouth, throwing up out of disgust and hate for my old self will slow me down, if I live to see the break of dawn then, I will throw up.

You might wonder what on bloody earth is this bitch going on about?

Well, this bitch is livid and desperate.

Livid because she was betrayed and desperate because she refuses to go down to her impending death without putting up a big fight.

You know what?!

FUCK IT!!!

I will fucking survive this night! I refuse to die! Not when I am actually beginning to enjoy my life!

I'm sorry for yelling at you, my emotions are beyond haywire right now.

I know I make no sense but please bear with me.

I wish I could just say what the problem is, but then you won't fully understand the weight of my problem.

And you might treat it as if it were a mere child's play.

Yes, you have your problems, everyone in the world has those, no matter how great their lives seem or how happy they appear. Everyone has problems, the problem is we all feel ours is bigger than the next person's.

My point is you came here to in some way escape from the real world and get lost in someone else's world that happens to be written in a book.

If you want a love story please just get out of here, love is shit and crap and leaves nothing but pain in its wake.

I mean the fuck what I said.

Love is shit period!

It got me here, fighting for my life!

Why should I care about love?! When all I've ever wanted all my life is to feel fucking loved!

I am not talking about my damn family! They don't have a choice in the matter, especially when they're a religious bunch, they love in their own weird way because they feel it's mandatory.

The type of love I ached for is the one that sets your soul on fire, the type that with one look from the other you're a withering mess, the kind that the significant other looks at you with utter admiration and you feel understood, appreciated and high.

You'll feel lucky because you know that while your heart beats and pounds in your ears, theirs is beating just as loud.

I wanted to feel loved, please do understand this, it's one thing to love someone, it's another thing to have someone love you, it's still completely different to feel loved, and it's not the same thing as being told you are loved.

All I wanted was for someone besides my family to show me they care, like fucking stop telling me you bloody care and then not check on me for weeks without end, stop claiming to be too busy to call or text!

What if something bad happened to me?! Too many people these days are fond of doing this shit to the people they claim to care about.

Giving excuses like, "oh no I've been busy", or "everyone is different, some people like me don't text or call much", or the most stupid of all excuses I've ever heard, "we all have problems to take care of, so it shouldn't bother you".

What's all that bull shit?!

Get one thing damn clear, when you care about someone no matter how big your problem is you will always reach out just to know they're OK or even let them know you have issues to attend to so you won't always be available.

It doesn't matter if we're all different, we're still all the same when it comes to matters of the heart.

We all don't like rejection, some handle it better than others, and we all want to be understood by someone and genuinely cared for.

We're all the same if think of it despite, race and religion and other things.

So please stop saying you care!

Just fucking show me you care!

Just fucking love me!

It's what I used to scream in my mind to anyone who makes little to no effort for me. They act like I don't put my issues aside to care for them, they act like it's a tug of war to show affection.

Why is it so hard for them?

Oh right, I know why, and no my self-esteem is perfectly intact for such nonsense such as insecurity.

I am no fool, I know I'm not the best out there but I love myself, I've worked hard to shape the person I am now and if the world can't see that, well my two middle fingers are raised in the air to that.

In order for you to understand, you will have to take a path down my memory lane, back to the time before my birth, it's the only way.

Maybe, walking down this path with you will help me remember something that could save my life.

Before we begin, I must warn you, I may have been handed a rose for life but remember one can't have a rose in one's hand and not be pricked by its thorns.

Blood will be drawn inevitably.

Hold on, I see a small cabin behind those bushes to my left, it looks empty due to all the lights being off and how quiet it seems. I can't detect a sign of life around it, like clothes or a car.

Hiding there will buy me enough time to show you how I got here in the first place.

With a new sense of hope and desire to survive, my legs who were screaming bloody murder were beyond exhausted, but even they knew that if they stopped they may never run another day.

Sweat trickles down my forehead, sliding down and clings to my right eyelid, it burns my right eye due to the bacteria in my sweat but I dare not stop to clean it with my purple chiffon blouse.

A gift from my little ones. I truly miss them.

The cabin truly looks empty, whether danger lies in there or not, I'll take the risk.

It's better to take a chance on the shelter it would undoubtedly provide than die in the hands of those barbaric beings more than eager to feast on my flesh, my blood, my bones and worse of all my soul.

"Ow! Fuck!"

My right leg just bashed a fucking rock, just my fucking luck! I've drawn attention to myself!

FUCK!

Unwanted attention.

But no matter, I'm close about ten more feet and my hands could reach the door.

"Hey! I've found the bitch! This way!"

Nooooooo!

A tearful sob rocks my body, fear is choking me, I can't breathe and the cabin seems so far away now.

It's probably their illusion shit like they used on me before, I'm sure they're trying to play tricks on my mind, and I will not look back to see their hideous form it'll only slow me down.

I know they're far and coming after me, nope I'm definitely not stopping for shit.

With a leap of faith, I stretch my hand to the door even if it seemed like a mile away.

Reaching out into the air, I feel the handle.

"Thank God!" My bodyweight and the velocity of my speed created a force that pushes the rather heavy door open.

Not wasting a second later I shut the door.

Oh, God! Thank you so much, I've been shitty but thank you.

Happy tears streamed down my face, I just might live!

"I cover this cabin with the blood of Jesus, no evil force or being can come into this house in Jesus name. Amen."

Christ! I feel like I ran a marathon, OK technically I did.

I'm safe now, at least I have to survive this eerie night.

If I live to see tomorrow's sunlight, I'll live.

They can't get me in here, demons and witches can not gain access into a house that they weren't invited into, especially if someone sanctified the house.

Which I just did, with that short prayer.

It's too dark to see a single thing in this house and with my bleeding toe which I just noticed I believe it would be unwise of me to explore this strange environment.

I stretch my hand to feel it but the adrenaline in my system is stopping me from that. It's so dark, I can't see shit.

I can't even see my hand that's in front of my eyes that's how dark it is in here.

I give up trying to gauge the extent of my injury.

The moon's absence is the cause of this. I believe thick clouds are being greedy and keeping the moon's light all to themselves.

I told you that I'd take you through my life history to the beginning of my problems.

This reminds me of a meme I saw on Instagram last month, I laughed my heart out about it but now I am anything but amused.

It was of Squidward from the children's show "SpongeBob Squarepants".

The meme went like this:-

Person:- "Are you alright?"

Squidward:- "I'm OK".

Person:- "Oh alr–".

Squidward:- "It all began the day I was born..."

I can completely relate to it, unfortunately.

It did all really begin the day I was born.

Better yet before that.

Let me show you how I ended up being at the risk of being sacrificed to blood-sucking, flesh-eating, bone-crushing and soul-killing demons and a few witches and wizards.

Yes, my life sucks right now and you wouldn't want to be me.

Let's get on with it, shall we? Might be my last night alive anyway. They may find a way in here to drag me out. I won't be surprised if they managed to.

I might remember something to aid me out of this so let's begin.