Book I: Near Death Experience (18+) ✔️

8.

We all began the long walk towards my village home, which sat on the edge of town down a long trail. The rain had slowed into a light mist as I walked beside the two towering men on each of my sides. I tried not to think about the field, or that Xander and Knox had to see my breakdown. It made me feel so weak, so embarrassed to be seen like that. I needed to be strong, I needed to be in the right head to do this. 

The leaves scattered around the path were deep orange and red, with some patches of yellow. The fallen leaves were wet from the rain, making them glossy and shimmering from the cloudy sky. The crinkling sound of the leaves beneath our feet provided a comforting background noise as we continued our journey.

"Would you like to talk about it?", Knox asks lightly while touching my arm with a gentle caress. A sad smile graces my lips as I look up at his concerned face, before muttering meekly, "Soon."

"So why do you live this far out of the village? All the other homes are placed together", Xander asks changing the subject making me feel slightly better. I began quietly, "Well I wasn't born here, nor was my mother. She moved here when I was a baby. She was originally from London. She never told me why, I always guessed it had something to do with my father.

But since all the homes were built originally by the people that stayed here, there wasn't any available. She got in contact with the stone mansion in the village, Mr. Carter, before he passed; and he had a property that he built for his children to live when they got older. But as time passed, he and his wife never conceived any children and the home was too far out for them as they got older. So he gave it to my mother, so at least one child could live here."

The home was a small stone cottage tucked away in the forest, surrounded by trees and lush greenery. It was hidden away, almost like a secret hidden in the woods. Beside it was a quaint green house, with glass walls that glimmered in the misty morning light. The house was surrounded by a small garden, filled with colourful flowers and lush greenery. It was a peaceful and tranquil place and the perfect place to escape from the hustle and bustle of the village.

"It's beautiful Addy", Knox whispered to me as he leaned his head down. The smile that fell on my lips was full of grief but it felt as if every memory of my mother came back to me making my eyes tear up.

Knox cups my cheek with his hand, wiping away my tears with his thumb. His thumb gently strokes my cheek, his touch gentle and soothing. His eyes are filled with compassion and understanding, and I'm grateful for his presence. I could feel a presence behind me, Xander of course, as his hands were placed on both hips. 

Knox was an incredibly strong and supportive presence, his gentle touch providing a calming comfort that made it easier to talk about my family. Xander was also a supportive figure, his hands providing a physical connection that gave me a sense of stability and security. Together, the two brought comfort and safety, making it easier to open up and share the story.

Xander's hand brushed my dark hair behind my ear before leaning down beside it whispering gently, "We can wait to go inside, little one."

"No, its okay. I'm fine", I muttered quietly.

Knox nodded before letting me go, "After you, Elskling."

Taking the lead, I stepped towards the cottage and knelt to grab the golden key hidden underneath the welcome mat. As I picked it up, I felt a sense of comfort and safety. I looked back at Knox and Xander, both of them with concerned, yet supportive expressions on their faces. Taking the key in my hand, I opened the door and stepped inside the cottage, holding my breath.

The home was now a place of sorrow and grief, and the tranquillity and peace it once held had been replaced by an eerie emptiness. The colours of the flowers and greenery were now dull and grey, and the glass walls no longer glimmered in the morning light. The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive, and the memories of my mother's death seemed to linger in the air. Every corner of the home brought back the memories of what had happened, and the feeling of loss and regret was palpable. I could no longer feel the warmth and love that had once been so present in the home, and it now felt like an unfamiliar place. It felt like a weight was placed on my chest as my eyes scanned the house as if reliving the crime scene where my mother lay.