The Count Sister - RE-WRITING

Chapter Eight

The image on the side is Vladamir (Dracula)

Chapter Eight

“Where the hell have you been Gwin?” Her foster mothers full time employed care worker. He was evil, he hated Gwin, in fact all the care workers hated Gwin; they thought she was dangerous to be around and had told Linda, her foster mum, to abandon her years ago but Linda always refused said she loved her more than they would ever know. “You’re foster mother has been worried sick about you?”

  Gwin ignored him as she threw her coat on the sofa and stormed towards her bedroom. “Oh that’s right,” She glanced behind and saw Mike storming towards her, he’d hit her once not that she’d ever tell anyone. “Go in your room you ungrateful little-” She slammed the door in his face, bolted it and stumbled away onto the floor, clutching her knees closer to her chest.

A few seconds later he began banging against her door. She could practical smell the alcohol on his breath from where she sat. “Open it you little bitch!” The banging got louder and louder.

  Gwin’s anxiety began to rise once more, and the conversation with Julian seemed so far away. The feeling of being free was once again isolated by her past and she couldn’t even put it behind her like Lamia had suggested.

  Gwin crawled over to her rucksack, pulled out her pills and shook the last two into her palm. She downed them and licked the residue of her palms. The taste of sweat and strawberries filled her mouth and she began to heave for breath.

Unable to drown the sound out any other way, she covered her ears with her hands and rocked whispering for all the bad things to go away; and for some reason she thought of him. She imagined Julian’s blue eyes, his sly smile that he only showed her, his perfect laugh, and his breathing and how she longed to lean on his chest and listen to his slow heartbeat. Something she didn’t have.

  Gwin opened her eyes and realized he’d gone, he always gave up and went back to drinking gin and watching a stupid film on the cheap and tacky TV he had in his room.  It was perfect for him, she thought as she stood up to open her window.  Linda was blind she couldn’t see the bruises she had on her body from where he’d hit her or tried groping her. No one would believe her at social services, told her it was her depression again that she needed more medication; but she wasn’t going to be pinned and prodded anymore, she had had enough.

  Gwin changed from her school clothes and placed on her jersey shirt and shorts, they were her brothers. He had gone to the army when Gwin was five; she hadn’t seen him for years. People from her old street had told him she’d died in the fire too; they were paid a substantial amount to feed that lie to him. They said he had no family to return to and no matter how hard Gwin tried to write to him, her letters were just sent back; warning her to leave well alone. Said he was better without her. In a way, Gwin agreed. Everyone was better without her around.

  It still smelt like him though, she breathed him in and went to sit on her window seat. So many times this window had been her friend, how easy it would be for her to swing her legs onto the ledge and jump off, granted she was on the second floor of the three-story flat but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be taken from this World. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes feeling the breeze against her bruised legs.

“What do you mean Aubrey’s with them?” Her father exclaimed for the tenth time tonight. Lamia rubbed her temples as Armanthia smacked her head on the table. “Is she doing this to hurt me on purpose?” 

“Father” Lamia tried to gain his attention but he still paced backwards and forwards in his office, running his hand through his hair, picking up various objects and throwing them against the wall. Lamia hadn’t seen him this angry since she was young and that’s when they had been fleeing for their lives from their home town.

“I mean,” He stopped and picked up a picture of Aubrey beside their mother. She looked like their mother, anyone could see it. Aubrey didn’t just look like her she was her, she was kind and sweet; a little moody at times but then again you needed that balance.

  The anger her father had was based on the fact he had already lost his beloved wife, he didn’t want to lose the daughter that resembled what was left of the one he lost. “Why would she betray me?”

  He threw back his arm and flung the picture forwards. Lamia shot out of her seat and grabbed the image from the air before rushing towards her father and slamming him in his seat; the seat rolled back towards the far wall.

Lamia could feel the anger rise inside her, her fangs snapped down, the windows burst open and the wind attacked her face. The problem with Lamia was when she was angry she had a gift to make the things around her turn against those that she was raging against; her father squirmed and hissed at her before his fangs snapped down too. Lamia looked in his eyes and calmed down; she pulled her fangs back and the wind slowed to a normal speed. Her father still remained in protection mode but he looked calmer. “She didn’t betray you,” Lamia hissed. “Do you know how long both Cyrus and Aubrey tried to deny their feelings for your sake? A long time father, a very long time” She pulled away from him, and walked towards his desk, placing the picture back, she stroked the image and smiled at her mother’s face. It was hard to picture what she smelt like or even felt like; she had been the best mother any vampire could have gotten but she was taken from them and that was unforgiveable. “You hated being away from our mother, didn’t you?”

“You know I did,” He said with no sarcasm, but he sounded in pain. She turned to look as he rubbed his shoulders to where he had been pinned by her. His fangs had been rolled back and he looked at her for the first time tonight like she was his daughter and not soldiers delivering news.

“Then do not punish Aubrey like the humans punished you,” Lamia walked towards her father and knelt down in front of him holding his head in her hands to make him see her, really see her. “She loves him so much, and he loves her. You knew that was the point of this, and you knew she was the only one who ever made that connection besides me; she cannot help the pull, just like mother couldn’t help hers.”

  He lifted his right hand a placed it against her cheek stroking away the silver tears as they fell from her eyes. She loved Aubrey, so much; she just never could tell her without Aubrey feeling there was a catch to her sisterly affection. “You remind me of a woman I once knew, a fighter but had a heart of gold.” He sighed and tried to lift himself off his seat, he faltered and Lamia swung his arm around her shoulder to lift him more firmly. “I am not who I once was Lamia,” He shook her off kindly and limped towards his room. “But if I lose Aubrey,” He stopped at the door handle and turned to look at his other two daughters. “I lose everything.”