House of Demons

Chapter One

             

- New Beginning -

Authors note- (picture above: Mina)

Dear mum,

 I'm sorry I can't be with you right now explaining everything that this note explains. But please hear me out. I have become aware of my hopes and dreams and I am taking every chance I can get to reach them. If that means leaving you behind, i'm sorry it is something I must do. 

You have a life with Alan now, you are very much in love and deserve a good life together. I am interfering by staying with you. I will manage wherever I go and will always find happiness even in the darkest of places.

 I am forever thankful for the woman you have helped me become today and all the love and guidance you have given me over the years. 

So i guess this is goodbye...

Love Mina xx

24 hours later -------------

The journey is unbelievably dragging . As I look at the clock every minute that passes feels like it's never going to reach the next. The rain hasn't stopped since I boarded the train to Amsterdam. 

I pray for the slightest beam of sunlight to peek through the never ending clumps of grey. The storm outside is reflecting the emotions that I am feeling inside. Leaving my mother was tough but it was something I had to do. For the sake of both of us. 

My black Nikon camera rests on my lap longing for an inspirational sight that is waiting to be captured. I seem to zone in and out of peoples conversations around me. 

The couple sitting opposite me are arguing about the new kitchen decor, an old lady sat across from me is on the phone to whom I think is her daughter, telling her to remember and feed the dog.

 It bemuses me about all the different things people talk about and what kind of things go on in other peoples lives. Whether it's important and factual or chatty and light hearted. 

I on the other hand have no one to talk to. I was never good at making friends with people my age and I have no other family apart from my mum Claire. 

You would think that at eighteen I would be more confident about life and how to handle situations but you couldn't be more wrong. Life is still a struggle no matter who you are or how old you are. 

I fell asleep for a good part of the trip and woke up to hear the ticket man calling us off at our stop. I gathered my satchel and camera and trailed behind the rest of the passengers. The cool air hit me and immediately making my eyes water. 

That's winter weather for you, always a shock to the system. My favourite season is winter, mainly because the ground is usually covered in a thick blanket of fluffy white snow. 

Little ice jewels hanging from railings and the roofs of houses. Winter brings a lot of magic to a dull world. 

I have directions to the hotel I booked, Hotel Vondel, since I don't have anywhere else to go. Not five star but not a cheap place either. I don't fancy sharing a room with mice. 

I went through the motions, registering all my details at the reception, allowed a pleasant young man to carry my bag to my room, taking a handful of leaflets which included stuff like entertainment, bars, restaurants, amusements, shops, etc. 

I took my key and headed toward the lift. As soon as I pressed the button a blue light appeared and I tapped my fingers against my camera as I waited for the lift to arrive. 

With a gentle, ping, the doors slid open and out came three small children. I didn't want to question why their parents weren't with them because that's not my problem. My first priority was to get a few hours of shut eye before dinner at 7pm I had a rough time sleeping on the train and my neck was seriously cramping.

I needed a soft bed to sleep in and then later on tonight I would probably explore my new surroundings. I pressed the button for floor five and the doors closed. 

There's music playing in the lift but it's really hard to make out, probably the same 'elevator music' all lifts have. My theory is that they put that music on so if the lift gets stuck you have a little bit of 'soothing' music to help calm your nerves. 

Which is a load of bullshit really and just something I conjured up to pass the time some years ago. I make my way down the corridor searching for my room number checking out the interior of the hotel. 

The carpet is a deep red, one of those carpets with the really rough texture that seems almost too jagged to be a carpet. The wallpaper is white and dotted here and there with little abstract pictures which if you stare at for a moment too long start to creep you out.

At last my number, 247. I fished around my pocket and swiped the key card against the lock, hearing a subtle, click, before pushing down the handle and stepping inside. 

The room has a double bed, which I made sure of. The sheets look clean, towels folded neatly on top of the pale blue sheets and small sweets in brown wrappers on top of those. 

Of course I've never ate any of them cause I seriously don't trust free hotel candy.

 I noticed my bag was already here. That boy sure was fast, he must have been in here and out within...ten minutes? The bathroom is spacious as well as the main. 

I had to request a fair sized room, I can't live in cramped living spaces because of my claustrophobia. 

I dump my satchel at the bottom of the bed and take my black, ankle boots off and drop them beside my bag. Flinging the towels on a spare chair and the dodgy sweets in the bin, I climb into my bed and marvel at how my body just sinks into it, like a big white cloud. 

Making my eyelids heavy as I breathe out a sleepy sigh before, without warning, I slip into a much needed sleep.