Deception

Chapter 1|You guys are seriously behind the eight ball

Okay, so this is the first chapter of my new book (obviously) this is copyrighted, if you steal any part of this book I will hunt you down and follow you around with a leaf blower for the rest of your life, so you will never have a good hair day again.

This book as a work of pure fiction, any similarities to real people, places or events is coincidental. Blah, blah, blah, all that crap.

There will be cursing, so if you're sensitive to that kind of stuff, then please don't read. I tend to offend people without realising that what I'm writing is offensive, lets be honest, I'm going to offend someone no matter what I write, so I apologise in advance.

Just remember, if you post a comment that I don't like, I can delete it. But if you comment about my grammar, I will fix the mistake and leave your comment there so you look like an idiot XD

Oh, and please don't advertise your book in the comments. It's rude and it pisses me off.

Now you may begin.

• • •

I clutch my stomach as I stagger blindly towards the light at the top of the hill. It seems so close, yet impossibly far. I recognise the signs as they happen; my vision starts to blur. I must be losing a lot of blood. The stickiness oozing out from under my scarred hand confirms my suspicions. My head starts to spin, and I have to stop to steady myself.

I know that if I stop for more than a second I'll collapse and probably die out here in the dark, under the light of a full moon.

Shit, is that bad luck? Y'know, black cat, shattered mirror, walk under a ladder bad luck. Oh hell I'm doomed.

A mocking voice in my head knocks me out of my day dream, well night dream, except I'm not sleeping. The mocking voice reminds me of my old life. No, it is my old life. I hear him taunting me like a hammer slamming into my skull with every word.

If you don't beat that time I'll beat your brother.

If you're not bleeding, you're not trying hard enough.

The bitterness starts seeping into my veins as the anger turns into adrenalin and I continue to stumble up the hill.

"Am I trying hard enough for you?" I yell into the darkness. "Look at all this blood, do you see it!?"

I look up at the sky, hate in my eyes. "I hope you burn in hell!"

The irony of this life, this hell on earth overwhelms me. Ever since I learned what hate was, what it felt like, I hated him. That hate is what has kept me alive out here for so long, that hate that was drilled, quite literally, into me as a child. It still hasn't left me, even though he's dead now, that voice in my head that drives me to the brink of insanity somehow always lets me survive whatever is thrown at me. It's like he's been preparing me my whole life for this in the cruelest way possible, like he knew it was coming. But then again, how could anyone know this was coming?

Sometimes I wonder what I would be doing right now if it hadn't happened, but then I stop because I know my old life wasn't so different from this one, and hopes and dreams are only made to be crushed by someone bigger, and more powerful than you.

The porch of the lone house nestled amongst the trees, shines out like a beacon.

These people must be stupid, everyone knows not to leave any lights on at night.

I feel like a moth, attracted to the light. I hate moths.

The closer I get to the house, the weaker I become, my energy is drained from me. By the time I reach the three short steps that lead to the door, I can barely drag myself along the painted wood slats.