Forsaken - 1

Prologue

The dull sound of steady rain pounded the glass windows of the attic window as I roused from my short sleep and through my legs over the wrong side of the bed, stretching tiredly. It was another horrible day to live. I already knew. Surely Great Aunt Genoveve would be waiting, right there, or one of her many maids, just to hand me a lengthy list of instructions and tedious chores. I stretched again, this time sliding off the bed and pulling on my nightgown. Pulling back the blinds, I stared out over the bleak landscape of rainy Ireland. Although depicted as a joyful, beautiful place, as I used to read in my little storybooks, it seemed to snicker at my sour expression that overwhelmed my face every day after I would rise. The sun played hide and seek, but for some reason, it was reluctant to come out and see me until it was too late in the day to be in the garden and it was time for sewing lessons.

A rocky shore was nearby, and I could hear the crashing of the mighty waves on a dangerous shoal close to the bay. That was the only place I've ever been besides this horrible mansion in nearly 10 years. And it was only for a special occasion.

My great aunt Genoveve was not herself directly Irish, but I assume you could say she had some Irish blood. My great great great grandfather passed down the mansion to my great great grandpa, and he continued passing down the family house until my father died and the mansion floated to his dad's sister. His father, my great grandpa, was dead, and my father driven mad by his addiction, and my mother dead, there was no one else for the mansion to be given to except aunt Genoveve. We were the only true family members left. I am the only child. My mom is gone and I don't know where my father is, but he is not in my family anymore. Aunt Genoveve was my dad's only sibling, and she never married.

As expected, an annoying, prim maid was waiting outside my bedroom door, pursing her little lips.

"You're late, Sarah."