A love story
Chapters with * next to the number may contain sensitive content.
WARNING: contains strong language, violence, sexuality, emotional trauma, drug use, and other content suited for mature audiences. Don't read if you're a pansy.
Copyrigh...
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There it was, standing bright and prominent against the glare of the sun; a small cottage tucked between the rolling landscape. It looked the same, it smelled the same, it felt the same.
Jude stood behind me, blowing cigarette smoke out from his lips."This is it?" He inquired, visibly unimpressed by it's unspectacular state. I nodded and stayed silent, keeping my gaze centered on the wooden door. I could feel his eyes glued to my back, so I peeked over my shoulder at the brilliance of his handsome face. "So, you gonna do this, man?" He asked me.
Was I going to do this? I had no choice. I owed it to the only person on this planet that I ever loved.
"Yes." I murmured and began a steady pace to the porch, examining the holes and chipped paint decorating it. Jude followed suit, matching my steps. I stood directly in front of the door, mentally psyching myself up for whatever was to come next.
This was it. It was all or nothing. I felt the energies of my mother's spirit dancing around me, guiding me to raise my fist to the chipped wood. I swallowed, then knocked.
JUDE
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The silence hit me and enveloped me in all of its crippling glory. Coyote's knocks echoed in two, brisk taps, sounding throughout the space surrounding us. I felt the nervous tension digging underneath my skin. I was curious to see who exactly was standing on the other side of the door.
There were a few empty moments where absolutely nothing occurred; no breathing, no footsteps, no crickets or birds or the intrusive sounds of wind. I was convinced the whole planet had gone still.
Suddenly, striking us like a bolt of lightning, the doorknob began to twist. I held my breath as the large wooden frame swung open. I couldn't hold back the intense sense of dread when I saw who was inside.
A boy, roughly fourteen or fifteen, stood in the doorway, his eyes peeled open at the two strangers on his porch. This was definitely not a murdering step father. I didn't dare look at Coyote, I didn't think I was capable of handling the torment that would certainly be ringing in her translucent eyes. She was paralyzed. She was death.
