The Jerk Next Door

Prologue

 Hi Guys !

This is my first story written in English. I'm a bit stressed about how you'll find it. I hope it's good :)

I'd like to say that English isn't my native language. French is. I'm missing a little something to be completely bilingual and I'm trying to gain it by writing.

So if you could criticize my story - not only the story line, but the writing in general, and point out eventual mistakes I made, I'll be forever grateful !

Don't worry about the plot though, I won't stop in the middle of writing this story because it's too hard. I'm not that kid of person. And the story line is already planned out. Soo... I won't suffer from the writer's block. Hopefully.

Now please read, comment and vote ! :)

Chapter 1 will be up in a few days.

Prologue

        Eliza Hamilton stood still in the middle of the graveyard. Even if she was young when she came here for the first and last time, she still had the path memorized by heart. She knew exactly where she needed to go but couldn't bring herself to move.

        It was a rainy day. The wind was blowing wildly, freeing Eliza's chestnut colored hair from her loose pony tail and making it fly in front of her face, acting like a shield between her and the rest of the world, and preventing her from taking a good look at her surroundings.

        Slowly, as if in a daze, Eliza pushed her hair back and took a tentative step forward, and then another. Soon, she was trotting in the alley with a newly found confidence.

        Her steps lead her to a stone. Eliza winced slightly once she saw it. It was obvious that nobody visited since the last time she saw it six years ago as the grave was unkept. Looking around, Eliza saw that the other graves were covered with flowers and looked as good as new. This only accentuated the feeling of desertion coming from the grave Eliza was kneeling in front of.

        Shaking her head, Eliza pushed aside the feeling of guilt that was consuming her. "It isn't my fault", she told herself. "It never was."

        She reached a shaking hand and traced the letters engraved in the stone. Matthew Hamilton, it read, 1990-2005.

        As if on cue, a flood of disturbing images and sounds that hadn't haunted Eliza in years were suddenly resurfaced. They flashed in her mind like a slide-show. Her father's loud voice as he screamed menacingly. Her brother Matt, pushing her aside and incurring the wrath of her father, initially aimed at her.  The glow of the knife. The incessant yaps of the dog. The warning shout coming from Matt as she tried to stop her father. The warm fluid trailing from her airline into her eyes. The pain throbbing through her head, making it nearly impossible to stay conscious.  

        A straggling cry escaped Eliza's lips as the memories assaulted her. She couldn't move, couldn't shout for help. She could only burry her face in her knees and breathe until the vivid images of the worst day of her life stopped.

        Even long after it did stop, Eliza stay motionless, defeated with a new certainty : she was alone. The thought had been nagging at the back of her mind for years but she never saw it as clearly as she did at that moment.

        Nobody could ever understand the pain she had been feeling most of her life. Eliza knew that she was condemned to deal with it on her own. Forever.