Death's Hold

Chapter One

The crying had started again.

Zara put both hands over her ears and groaned. Here we go again. It had been barely thirty minutes since her little brother had finally fallen asleep after throwing tantrums loud enough to disturb their nonexistent neighbors. Yet, here he was, awake once again and screaming his head off.

Zara knew what would happen next.

"Three. Two. One." She spoke softly, ticking the seconds off her fingers.

"Zero."

Her mother ambled into the room. Greta Tomeo was a heavy woman with a surprising gracefulness to her. She seemed to always move on tiptoe, a fluid motion taking over her entire frame and helping her easily jump from one task to another. That was all she did, Zara's mum, tasks.

She was a proper housewife stuck here in the middle of nowhere, dusting, washing, and mopping all day. Giggling like a teenage girl as she twirled around the house, soft edges knocking into and sometimes over furniture. Cooking and daydreaming and waiting for the grandfather clock to strike seven. Waiting for when he came home.

Zara's mother disgusted her sometimes. She disgusted her even more now with her stomach sticking out more than usual due to the baby she would have in a couple of months.

His baby.

It wasn't so much the baby as the effect it had on her. Zara had never seen her mum sparkle so. Her brown eyes shone constantly, happiness and contentment radiating from her entire being. Her footsteps had gotten even lighter since she'd broken the news to Zara and Patrick as if her joy was trying desperately to defy gravity and lift her off the ground so she could soar up into the sky and sing her thanks to the heavens.

Positively sickening.

Of course, he was pleased. He had held her and kissed her and ducked his head to hide the tears in his eyes, Patrick had. Greta had laughed happily and hugged him back, her huge arms going easily around his sinewy frame. She had dragged her gaze away from his blue eyes and focused them on Zara.

"Come join the family hug sweetheart."

"No thank you," Zara had said before walking to her room.

She could hear their whispers even as she lay in bed. The house was that tiny with everything crammed together and barely enough space to move around. Though it wasn't like there was anywhere you wanted to move to. They lived on the outskirts of Eldris. A place so cold and desolate, it made you feel as if you were the only person on the planet.

The nearest supermarket was forty-five minutes away and that was when Patrick used his truck which had seen better decades.
Patrick mostly used it to get to and from the town factory where he worked ten hours a day, six days a week, and all he had to show for it was a tumble-down cottage practically on the edge of the earth.

It made Zara want to spit.

There were no other houses around their area, no satellite dish, no stores, no nothing. It was as though they lived under a rock.

Zara felt so disconnected from the world. She had to rely on Patrick's daily recount of the outside world when he came home for dinner each night. It was an irritatingly tiresome business because he only spoke of things she didn't care about like fuel prices and newly elected officials.

She also had to make sure it wasn't obvious she was desperately listening to every word he said while her mother oohed and aahed as though he was quoting Shakespeare from memory. Zara left the dinner table most nights feeling drained and battered.

It was all very well for her mother. She was in love, deeply so. Zara had never seen her mum look at any other man the way she looked at Patrick. Not even her father before he'd started beating them both after getting drunk each night. She looked at Patrick like he was the only thing that mattered, the adoration in her eyes so naked. Zara wasn't on the receiving end and yet even she had to tear her eyes away from her mother, stomach feeling tight.