EXTRACT FROM CHAPTER 19:
'The bitter blood taste from my busted lower lip grew more nauseating with each leap I took as twigs and leaves cracked beneath my shoes, echoing throughout the forest.
The ground beneath me blurred while I ran in a daze...
Drop by drop the blood dripped down her finger tips.
Her hands was stained in a deep crimson color with hair that clung in damp locks onto her shoulders.
A sinister smile spread across her face as she stared out of the back of a dark car towards the enormous crowd that formed.
Trying to pull her hands away the cold steel pierced her writs, keeping them firmly behind her back.
There was a soft click followed by uniformed police officer climbing into the drivers seat.
Closing the door he hesitated for a moment then turned back towards her.
"Do you have any idea what you did?" His gravelly voice asked.
She slowly turned her head away from the crowd towards the officer, staying silent as her eyes focused on him, blurring out the black bars separating them.
"Don't you have anything to say?" The officer furiously growled as his eyes darted between hers.
"Yes, " She said in a bare whisper, nodding her head as she looked up into the rearview mirror , "It would be a pleasure to see them all burn..."
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Keeping her eyes glued to her own reflection, a blistering sting could be felt as a single black vein started to spread up from her neck into her face.
This is not me.
-Yet her reflection resembles my own.
There's no doubt for once she's out... bloodshed paints her path.
May mercy be bestowed on all the souls that she'll touch.
***
"Alex, " I vaguely heard my name. "Alex, " It grew a little louder now. "Alex!" Okay, that I definitely heard as the lack of patience in my mother's voice was unmistakable.
Blinking a few times I snapped out of a daze, scratching my food around the plate before turning my head towards my mother as the two of us sat at the island in the kitchen.
"Eat your food. It's getting cold." She ordered before taking a bite of her own pasta.
I looked back down towards the greasy takeout boxes standing on the one side and then back to my plate where all its contents was dumped.
"I'm not really hungry." I mumbled laying my fork down as I pushed the plate away.
"We drove eleven consecutive hours to get here - you have to be hungry." My mother's soft voice spoke pushing my plate back in front of me.
