Darkness of the Moon

Prologue

PROLOGUE

"Daddy, where's mummy?" The girl asks her father sweetly.

"She's not here, sweetheart," the man picks up his daughter and rests her on his hip.

"When is she getting back?" She questions.

He looks into her eyes and smiles cruelly, "she's not coming back."

"What do you mean, daddy?"

"She's gone," he says simply.

"Where?"

"To a place where she can watch over you forever,"

"Is she ok there?"

"Yes sweety, she is fine."

That was twelve years ago. He lied to me. He lied to a five year old child. He told me she was safe, that she would be ok, that she would watch over me. He forgot to tell me she was dead, is dead. He didn't tell me he was the one that killed her, strangled her in her sleep and drowned her in the river. I had to find that out for myself, when he tried the same thing on me. He never succeeded. I was twelve when he first tried to kill me.

He was drunk when he got home, he slammed the door so hard that it cracked down the middle. He started yelling and throwing things. All I could hear was smashing and screaming. I hid in my closet with my brother, Daniel, it didn't last long though. After a while, Daniel went to try and calm him and I was left alone. There was more shouting, then there was silence.

After a while I went to investigate. What I saw was not pretty. My brother was on the floor with blood leaking from his mouth, passed out or dead. My father was perfectly fine, he even seemed to have a slight glow to him.

"Come here!" He yelled at me.

I trembled, but did as he said. As I stepped into his range, he slapped my cheek. I gasped and tears slid down my cheeks. He reached for me and I ran around the table to Daniel. I screamed and yelled for him to wake up.

He didn't. He just laid there, unmoving. I knew if he wasn't dead yet, he would be soon. And so I ran. I ran to my room, footsteps following me. I grabbed as much as I could and stuffed it into my backpack. I sprinted to my bedroom window and opened it. Just before I jumped I looked behind me. My father was there holding a knife. He threw it at me and it skimmed my arm. I screamed and jumped, twisting my ankle from the impact, but that didn't stop me from running. I ran and ran, until I knew I was safe.