Awakenings

Chapter 1

Awakenings

Book 1 of the Grave Misgivings series

by C. E. Sundstrom.

Copyright C. E. Sundstrom 2014.

‘Warning’

Cherish their laughter,

Share their abundant joy.

Marvel at their wonderment.

Look at the world as it sparkles in their eyes.

Enjoy this time so short.

Guard their innocence well.

For ever present in the shadows,

Darkness lurks ominously, while deceit dwells.

 

Chapter 1

Monday, February 13th, 2006.

Early Evening.

Toorak, Victoria, Australia.

A summer breeze passes silently, though with an unmistakable, underlining strength and urgency to its movements. It causes the first batch of Autumn Oak leaves to dance like subservient puppets; subtle movements controlled by an omniscient being through invisible strings. They rustle, scamper and race across the manicured pathways and lawn. Some even become airborne; pirouetting elegantly before they fall limp to the ground. All becomes still as a strange breathless calm descends over the garden.

Cassandra skips lightly across the dew covered grass. Dutifully Toto, her faithful Scotch Terrier, marches close behind her. He is unperturbed by the cardboard ears now dangling awkwardly from his collar; remnants of an adventure they have shared less than an hour ago. He has endured far worse indignities over the last few months, not that he is worried. He simply loves any opportunity he gets to play with Cassandra in their spacious wonderland she refers to as ‘the front yard’.

“Mary has a little lamb, its fleece is white as snow,” Cassandra sings cheerfully as she moves towards the roses her mother has tended lovingly for so many years. The garden bed holds over a hundred different colored bush roses interspersed with a straight line of standard ‘Iceberg’ roses at the front. She is well aware of the rules; she can look but not pick any of the flowers here. However, the little daisies flourishing intermittently in the lawn are fair game. Neither of her parents seem greatly concerned by her regular daisy harvests which she uses to create exquisite ‘fairy bouquets’. She never gets in trouble for her floristry. To her parents, they are simply weeds, little more than fodder for the lawn mower.

“Darling, it’s time to come inside. It’s getting cold,” her mother gently calls from the second floor balcony. There are several hours of daylight left; however, the cloud cover is increasing and the cool night air will soon be closing in. She doesn’t want Cassandra to get a chill. Not again. She has spent the last four weeks recovering from the flu. Maybe, in Cassandra’s eyes, her mother is a little over protective. However, that is her role and her right. After all, she is a mother and knows first-hand just how cruel this world can be.

“Yes mom,” Cassandra calls back politely. She knows it is rude not to answer when spoken to. She has learned the hard way what the consequences of ignoring her parent’s instructions are; a most painful experience for her backside. One she is not keen to revisit.