Marthandia

Chapter 9

"Margaret?" Ashley called from the door. "If it is seven o'clock you are not allowed into this room." I said.

A minute or two later Ashley came in. "Thanks for letting me sleep late." I said. "I was feeling generous." she said. I was pleasantly surprised. I did not think she would let me sleep in.

"What time is it?" I asked. "Two minutes past seven." she said. I groaned in response. "It technically isn't seven o'clock." she said. She laughed.

I sighed in defeat and slowly pushed my duvet off of the bed. Cold air rushed to greet me and I nearly pulled the covers back on. I gathered the miniscule amount of will power I possess and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

I opened the cupboard slowly whilst trying to open my half-closed eyes. I threw a dark pair of shorts on. Ashley was humming a happy tune while making my bed and I helped her place the last pillows on.

Sunlight shone through the window and her strawberry blonde hair formed a halo of light around her face. I took a deep breath of the jasmine aroma and smiled before we started walking down stairs.

Ashley said goodbye and rushed off leaving me alone in front of the large dining room doors. This time was different though, I had nothing to worry about.

I walked in and I instantly felt that something was wrong. In space there are vacuums which means there are no liquids, solids or gases. There is pretty much nothing. Everything is sucked up.

This felt similar. I felt like there was no matter, nothing at all. The magic in my body buzzed and my fingers sparked involuntarily.

I froze and slowly stepped backwards. A hooded figure stood in the front of the dining room where four small doors led into the kitchen.

His dark grey back was to me and my mother stood in front of him. Her hair stuck up wildly and her jeans and sweater were ripped and covered in blood. Her cold eyes were focused on the person in front of her and her expression was unreadable. No emotion was displayed on her face and she was barely even moving.

Discarded around her were three people that lay on the floor, two dark-haired waiters and my grandmother. I nearly cried out in shock at my grandmother's pale, fragile body lying on the cold, hard floor.

Her hair was spilling out of her bun and surrounded her head. A small river of blood trickled from a wound on her temple.

A bone stuck out at a weird angle from her leg. I gagged and leaned against the wall for support. Her light pink cardigan and skirt were also ripped and blood was splattered on their once pure fibres.

Her chest rose and fell slightly and I almost sighed in relief. My mother had not noticed me standing at the back of the room yet and she stood rigid in front of the dark figure.

Grey and white sparks exploded from her hands that she held out her sides. The dark figure stood in the same position; their hands were buzzing with dark purple and black sparks.

The air around me was suffocating and I could sense something out of place in the room. I could feel the evil magic radiating from the dark figure. It was similar to the magic I felt buzzing inside myself, but I could tell it was darker and more complex.

The figure chuckled, which sounded undeniably like a man and, with a flourish, his hands started shooting sparks at random. A spark hit into one of the elegant chandeliers above me.

The chandelier came crashing down right in front of me. It had fallen centimeters away from crushing me. I jumped back in surprise and yelped. My heart pounded against my ribcage.