Nephilims Awakening

Chapter 1 The Beginning

I woke up to the sound of my cat meowing loudly in my ear. I opened my eyes lazily, not really wanting to wake up but I saw my big fat ginger cat sitting right in front of my face with a sullen look on his face – and he was clearly annoyed at me because I didn't jump at the opportunity to get up and feed him. I groaned, not only because it was a school day and my cat annoyed me, but also because today was a day that I dreaded each year. Today was a very 'special' day for me, as other people would put it, because it was my seventeenth birthday. I slowly got up and started making breakfast for me and my mother. I haven't seen my mother in a matter of three days, but I was used to it by now because I knew she had to support me by herself. My mother and I've always had a complicated relationship – and we mostly avoided each other whenever possible.

I've lived in this broken down house in the town of Pecos, Texas ever since I could remember, together with my mother Anne and our lazy cat Bobby who always had the time to eat and then complain when he didn't have enough food left in his shrine of a bowl. My mother was a pale and thin lady that was small built with light brown hair and dark green eyes, and besides the pale skin and body type we didn't really look like each other.

I got up and dragged my feet towards the kitchen, took out a pack of bacon and turned on the stove. I went back to my room, got changed and brushed my teeth, and then slumped back to the kitchen. While the bacon was frying, Bobby jumped onto the countertop and started meowing at me, still waiting for me to give him some food. I took out the cat food and threw the small brown and green coloured pellets into a small red bowl. He purred loudly as he ate away. I rolled my eyes and checked on the bacon, which was now starting to burn onto the base of the pan. I scraped the bacon out of the pan and took it off of the stove.

"Happy birthday to me . . ." I whispered to myself as I stroked Bobby's furry head. My mother also didn't really like celebrating my birthday or any birthday at all, so she mostly just gave me a small gift and then acted as if it was a normal day for the rest of the time. I preferred it this way because I also didn't like celebrating birthdays. I didn't know why, I just always felt like people made such a big fuss about a day where you're one year older and one day closer to dying, so I mostly thought of birthdays as a waste of time.

I set the old rustic table and served the breakfast, with black coffee. I went down the hall to my mother's room to wake her up. We didn't live in the best house, because the dirty cream coloured paint on the walls were starting to peel off from the water leaks that we had all over our roof, and most of the taps were either broken or had brown water pouring out of it, but we at least had a roof over our heads. Most of the kids at my school BlackWater High always teased me because of how I dressed and where I lived – or maybe that was just because there was a big wooden cross nailed onto the top of our roof and because my clothes were always dark and run down, and I never wore anything new that was acceptable according to my generation. I've gotten used to being bullied by them, and I constantly reminded myself that in less than a year I would never have to see any of their smug faces ever again.

"Momma, wake up you have to go to work. C'mon Momma, you're going to be late." I said and my mother groaned. She rolled over to her side and continued to sleep so I shook her until she woke up. Her eyes opened a little and she yawned. She peered at me with the sudden realisation that it was my birthday.

"Happy birthday my baby girl. I got you something . . . I know it's not much but it's all I have." Anne said and she got up to give me a distant hug. She pulled away and dug into her bedside drawer, and took out a small silver necklace with a small cross hanging from it. She handed it to me and pursed her lips, waiting for my reaction. I looked at the silver cross, almost studying it, and I remembered that she wore one exactly identical to it when I was smaller. I realised that it was hers, and I was surprised that my highly religious mother would give me something so dear to her.