1- The Difference Between Normal and Unusual

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A/N: Okay guys, here's part one!
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Jezalin's P.O.V
Ever since mum died, I haven't been very ecstatic about anything that has come my way. I've actually become clumsier- I can't go a damn day without tripping over something. Mum's death was pretty hard. It's been three and a half months since the accident, but that's no reason to just forget her every memory.

-Flashback: Start-
"Mum?" I peered over the dark sofa, my hand making folds in the brown leather. The room was close to pitch black, and the only thing I could sense of my mother was her ragged breathing. Staggering footsteps coming from the back door announced the arrival of my father- drunk... And not alone. I could feel my mother's shaking body crouched protectively over mine, whispering a lullaby in my ear that she used to calm me when I was a baby.
But it wasn't working.
I think that she was humming it to calm herself and not just me- heat radiated both of our bodies and my palms were sticky with sweat.
"Jezalin?" That was my father, calling my name. His medolic voice was layered with lies and lust. "Papa is home, baby. Come to papa." My mother planted a hand on my chest and pushed me further behind the couch. Her breathing elevated to panic.
My father took a few more steps into the house, whoever was with him following. Mum slid back and grabbed me by the ribs, pulling me into a tight embrace. I returned the action and did not let go.
"Margret?" My mother's name. Her beautiful, meaningful name. I felt a spike of hatred. Pap shouldn't be able to use her name. Mum deserved better than the drunk maniac.
We'll get through this, I thought. Hollisters always emerge victorious. Hollister was my mother's maiden name- she conveyed to the name after she was first abused by my drunk father.
"Margret, come out. Our daughter is missing."
Our. I sneered at the word. Mum and Pap were supposed to be divorced in two day's time. It was time to start changing the way they spoke.
Mum gave me the signal. We had developed the plan one night when my father was at the bar. I nodded, and slid around and darted behind the large leather recliner. I fumbled under it, and used my hairpin to unscrew the bolts of the air vent. I silently slid the cover off of the vent, and grabbed the loaded pistol that we kept there in case this was ever to happen. Thankfully, the sound of my father's voice told me he was still at the front door- and we were back towards the living room. I scuttled back to our hiding spot, handing the loaded firearm to Mum. She placed it on the ground next to her, and grasped my palms in hers. "Goodbye." I paused, frightened. We had never agreed to get ourselves killed in the process. Perhaps she was just referring to when she came back. But I couldn't tell because she stood up, and shot the pistol at the general direction of the refrigerator- a tactic we came up with to hide our spot. My father's footsteps immediately changed as he charged towards the kitchen. Now it was up to God. The light was our safehaven. If someone turned it on, we would be screwed. Me and Mum had assumed that he would be to drunk to notice where the light switch was.

We were wrong.
After a few heartbeats of fumbling the lights switched on, and revealed my father leaning against the refrigerator, his hands tracing the bullethole. He smirked. Another set of footprints raced towards us.
"Jezalin!" Mum screamed. "Run!" I couldn't leave her. She was facing two adult men. "Mum!" I shouted, but her hands pushed me away. I stood and ran towards the broom closet. I heard gunfire and the scream of my father. I peered out of the door to see my mother wrestling with the other man, her hands clutching the gun like her life depended on it- in which it did. I darted into my kitchen. There lay the bleeding body of my father. His phone was on the counter. I never knew his password, so I switched it to emergency and dialed 911. My hands shook as the recover picked up.
"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?" Her voice was so calm, it made me mad.
"Help!" I screeched, and the fumbling of paper and a pen emitted from the phone.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"My mom is being attacked!"
"Oh, sweetie, hold on. We'll send men right away."
"I can't hold on! She's gonna die!"
"Trust me, baby. We won't let her. I want you to go find a safe spot. Somewhere where we know you are in case anything happens."
"Uh... Okay. I'll be in the broom closet. It's right next to the front door."
As I was speaking, sirens blasted and came closer. They were already on their way.
"Keep the phone with you."
"Okay."
"Keep talking. What exactly happened?"
I waited until I reached the closet and closed the door securely.
"My dad came in, drunk. He had another man with him. My mom shot my dad because he was about to..." I stopped. I would explain it to the police- they were already bursting through the door. I heard a knock. Slowly, the door opened to reveal a muscled man in uniform. "Come on," he said, and I followed him out the door and onto the driveway.
"What happened?"
"I just explained it to the receiver."
"Honey, we'll need a full report."
"Fine. My dad, he gets drunk a lot. And every time he gets drunk, he hurts Mum. And he hurts me too."
"Okay. Keep going. Boys, we have a 492."
"So we have this hidden firearm that we bought- legally- in case it got serious."
"And this time it got serious?"
"Yah. My dad came in with another man. Me and Mum don't know-"
I was cut off as another scream was heard.
"Mum!" I began to race back towards the house, but the officer held me back.
"And the man attacked Mum. Now let me go!"
The officer pinned me to his chest. I kicked and screamed, but it was useless. Fire engines began rolling around the corner, uniforms already jumping out and carrying a stretcher. They disappeared inside my house.
"Is Mum going to be okay?"
"She'll be fine honey."
"Okay."

-Flashback: End-

Of course, she wasn't okay. Mum died two days later on the account of six bullet holes shot in her chest. However, her attacker survived. He would be put on trial in nine months.

I wanted him to be put immediately in death row, but obviously that would be impossible. Every thing about him infuriated me. I just wanted him to die, like my Mum. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. I actually never knew his name, and frankly I didn't want to.

But something about that encounter didn't feel normal. Like there was another presence.

And I was determined to figure out what it was.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jun 22, 2016 ⏰

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