Broken Lies

Lost

Crimson seeped out from under the door, slowly, I pushed it open. I took a sudden intake of breath, stumbling backwards. Her slender body lay lifeless in a pool of her own blood. Her clothes were stained scarlet and her dull hazel eyes were wide open. Her hand was stretched out, as if she had been crawling towards the door before she had been stabbed, blood still flowing out from the wound in her back. My heart filled with emptiness, salty tears streaked down my face. She was dead, my mother was dead. The sound of sirens and feet pounding on the pavement filled the air. I buried my face in my hands, embracing the sorrow as the rain mingled with my tears as hands led me away.

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The rain fell down from the monochromatic grey sky. The dark stormy clouds rumbled as people dressed in black stood in mourning. I struggled to hold back the grief, the sparkling tears streaming down my face. Inside I felt an ocean of numbness, emptiness and regret. Saying goodbye again was the hardest part, even though she was already gone. I watched as the wooden coffin was gradually covered with rich brown soil.

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I spent the days trying to act like nothing had changed, that I was still the same cheerful, happy and innocent girl I had been, before my mother had been murdered. During the nights, I would sleep in my mother's bed, crying uncontrollably, her smell comforting me even though she was gone.

The radiant sunlight penetrates the window, the curtain fluttering in the wind. I arose from my heavy slumber. Sitting up, I drag my feet off the bed, and rub my eyes. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn sleepily. I had always thought the police would find my mother's murderer and bring them to justice, but the more time passed, the more uneasy it made me feel. The killer was still out there.

I had to find the murderer myself.

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I stood outside my mother's study, I hesitated, wondering if it was the right thing to do, before twisting the handle. Dust particles floated around the room. Snow lay on the table and books, but instead of a pristine white colour, it was a depressing grey. I blew the dust off the nearest book, the dust floating down onto the ground. The book title was written in cursive writing, 'Immortality'. I put the book down, my mother had been researching immortality before she had been murdered. Was this what she had been killed for? Her research on immortality?

I opened one of the wooden drawers, inside lay an envelope on top of a pile of books. I ripped open the envelope, a folded piece of paper lay inside. Reluctant to what it would contained, slowly I opened the letter.

Dear my dearest daughter,

If you are reading this, I have probably ascended to the heavens. I have something important to tell you, something I have kept from you for all these years.

For my whole life I have researched immortality, many times I've failed, sometimes I succeeded. You are one of my successes. You are immortal. You will live on no matter what. This is my gift to you.

Someone is after me and my research. Someone is sending me threats. If they find out about you, they will come for you, like they will come for me. You must never reveal this to anyone. Trust no one.

Remember, I will always love you no matter where I am, who you become or what you do. I love you.

Love, your mother.

P.S.

After you finish reading this, burn this letter and all my research, you must not let them get their hands on it.

Beads of water randown my cheeks, dropping onto the letter, the ink smudging to form a blacksplotch. My sobs were stifleat first as I tried to hide my grief however I was overcome by a wave ofemotions, sadness and anger like a raging storm at sea. Everything that hadhappened that day was now fresh in my mind. Why had she kept it a secret? Whylie to me?