Truthful Lies

Prologue (Unwelcome Package)

A lone figure runs through the night, clutching her bleeding shoulder with one hand, while the other cradles her bundle close to her chest. She gives the bundle a quick glance, her face contradicting itself with a mixture of both relief and anxiety.

Looking around frantically through the pouring rain she see a small light in the distance. A beacon of hope flares in her heart as she madly dashes through the forest, wind and trees whipping at her arms and face. She clutches her package closer to her, warding off the cold as best she can. In her crazed haste she trips on a fallen branch and her load goes flying through the air. She hisses in pain, incapable of doing anything to stop her precious item from its rapid descent.

The package flew through the air and was about to crash dangerously to the ground when a tiny arm reached out and grabbed hold of a nearby tree limb. The infant arm clasped the extremity firmly, holding the parcel and it's contents safely away from harm.

The woman breathes a sigh of relief through her already labored breath before her face drains of colour. Shaking off her obvious terror, she limps over and gentle pulls the basket from the tree. Coddling the bundle, she tenderly places the arm back in and wraps it up in the thin cloth purple cloth.

She almost faints as she gingerly stands up, both from the agony in her shoulder and from her now evidently broken leg. The pain begins to fade as adrenalin rushes back through her system and she returns to ambling towards the luminous source. Her blond hair sticks greasily to her face, a mixture of dried blood and mud making her appear like a monster from a horror movie.

The dark wooded shack looms ominously above the surrounding trees. The only affirmation that it was inhabited at all was the soft glow of lights that shined through the dirtied windows.

Carefully laying the basket on the front step she opens it up and gazes inside for the final time. The twin babies both stare up at their mother in confusion, two sets of violet eyes glittering with silver tears. The mothers own natural, blue eyes leave clean streaks through the dirt and mud caked on her face as she gives them both a quick kiss on the forehead.

Reaching into her pocket she pulls out the measly thousand dollars she managed to acquire and shoves it under their shared purple blanket. Finally, the desperate mother dips her finger into the bullet wound on her shoulder, coating her fingers in blood. Shakily, she scrawls her daughters names in blood on each of their arms and steps away from them.

"Mummy loves you," she whispers. "Mummy will always love her two little angels," she chokes out.

Banging on the door as hard as physically possible she scrambles away and hides in a nearby set of bushes just as the large door opens.

A man, around his mid twenties, stumbles drunkenly out the door. He peers into the darkness and angry scowl on his face before seeing the bundle at his feet. Staring down stupidly he yells into the house, not taking his eyes of the two children, "CHARLENE! There's two young'uns sittin out on the porch," he slurs.

"WHAT?" Yells out Charlene from inside. "I'm busy watching me shows!" The voice screeches causing the twins to burst out into tears at the high pitched sound.

"I SAID!" The man yells again with a pronounced twang. "There are two young'uns sittin on that there porch."

"UGH," the woman groans loudly. "Im coming!" Her heavy footsteps contradict the being that steps through the doorway. The thin, bird-like woman sneers up at her partner with her hollow cheeks and sunken eyes.

"There!" The man points at the crying girls.

She stares at the two girls and picks up the basket with her thin arms for further inspection. She pokes and prods the children for a second. "Some deadbeat has dumped their kids on us," she proclaims finally in annoyance.

"Kids? What do we do with kids?" He asks, picking up one of the little girls feet and holding it up like it's an alien species.

"I dunno," she shrugs before green note in the children's bedding catches her beady eyes. "Hey! Look Darrel!" she greedily digs inside the blankets and pulls out the offending items.

"Money!" Darrel grins happily. "There must be a trillion in there," he slurs.

"You great big oaf!" She hits him over the back of the head. "There's only like a thousand."

"Oh... Whatever, I'm cold. Let's go inside. I think there's some more whiskey hidden in the cupboard."

"Well." The woman peers at the children's arms before continuing, "Verity and Rebecca. Let's get you inside and see if you have anymore money hidden.

Rebecca made a gurgle of affirmation while Verity gave a little shake of her head. Both which went unnoticed by the woman as she hoisted up the basket and carried it hurriedly inside, slamming the door as she went.

The dying mother watched in concern, but knew that they would be safer here than their previous home. She worried about the current residence of her children, but remembered the spark of intelligence and understanding in their eyes. They were survivors, and that's where they differed from their mother.

Dragging herself out from behind the bush, she crawled to the nearby stream that ran parallel to the wooden shack. The icy water stung her wounds as she slipped in but soothed the burns that were left on her stomach. Sinking into the dark abyss, she released the tight hold she had on her life, happy that while she may never be with her daughters that they were as safe as they could be.

Her body gently floated down stream a small smile on her bruised and battered face.

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AN: Yes, I know the Prologue is short but I promise later chapters will be much longer. Now, I know a lot of people are going to hate me because I'm way behind on updating my other book Ashes, but I had an idea for this book and I was compelled to write it (also, I've lost motivation for Ashes ._.) I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update but it's the holidays now so I will try my best.

This is just a trial story and any feedback would be much appreciated. I've got a long complicated idea for this story which will require lots of research so bare with me.

Anyway vote and comment if you like :) but comments would be much more appreciated as I can get ideas and know how it's going from an outsiders point of view...

Love,

Your favourite sunburnt holidayer ❤️

P.s. Is holidayer even a word? Well, it is now ;)