I have decided to share my first chapter with you, if you like it, please head over to Amazon and support me by leaving a review and or of course BUYING the brilliant book, if only for the cover alone, as it will look fabulous in your kindle book list !
I have had some very kind reviews and comments, my favorite one is “I can not put it down!” that’s all I ever wanted to hear.
So come on guys, give yourself a push !
The day I died was the best day of my life…
I knew the minute I regained consciousness I wasn’t going to survive.
Pain screamed through me with the force of a whirlwind, my whole body was in agony. Every bone, every muscle and inch of skin felt like it was on fire, twisting in relentless pain with no source and no end.
I threw my head back and screamed as my stomach gripped in cramps, my fingernails tearing moon shaped holes into my clenched fists.
Slowly the torment ebbed down, I gasped in sucked in air in shivering gulps. My thoughts were jumbled, my sight blurry and my head throbbed so badly I struggled to focus. I knew where I was, in the front passenger seat of my stepfather’s truck. I knew I wasn’t getting out, my hands handcuffed tightly behind the back of the seat, the metal biting into my wrists.
I fought to get free, turning and bucking in the seat. My legs would not move, the dashboard pinned them just above the knee and I frantically tore at my wrists, gritting my teeth as I felt my skin wrip and blood running down to my fingers.
It was really dark, how deep under the water’s surface must the truck have sunk for not a shimmer of daylight to reach me? I had to get out of here; I would soon run out of air if I did not drown first. There was no chance of me being found, Andras had driven us so far from civilization nobody was going to come across me by chance.
Something warm and wet was dripping down my face, running over my left eyelid and past the side of my nose and fell onto my lips with a little plop.
I shut my eyes.
After I don’t know how long I awoke again as a new wave of agonizing pain seared through me and I let out a hissed gasp followed by an uncontrollable sob.
I couldn’t form a single thought, Images of friends and enemies, places and times, flashed before my eyes in a constant shambled concession, preventing me to be able to grip reality. I concentrated on breathing one breath in, one breath out, inhale, exhale, repeat.
My racing heart slowed, I was regaining control.
The cab began to fill with water; it was up over my knees and rising slowly but steadily as I watched on.
It did not matter as there couldn’t be much air left now.
Maybe someone would find me, I must have been down here a few hours now and the solicitor I was supposed to meet at three would have contacted my mom to ask where I was. She might just get worried enough to come looking for us, no I corrected myself, she would not come looking for me, but she would be worried Andras may have gone too far this time and I was in no state to see the solicitor. Or maybe just maybe she’d think there’d been an accident. If she did notify the police perhaps I could be found in time.
Of course there was also the possibility she had known of Andras plan, in which case help was not going to come.
Whatever was going to happen to me was out of my hands; all there was left to do was wait for the end.
How often had I told myself dying would be a release but now I was, was I ready for it? That small thought brought my mind to over boil, not slowly, as if realising it was too late, but with such intensity I screamed as the panic took over all conscious thought. I shouted for help as loud as I could, letting all the pain and anger out. I was trapped in a truck well under the rivers surface and I knew no one would hear me but I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Screaming and crying, all the time wriggling, trying to free myself from my steel ropes, using the almost overwhelming pain as a boost to try even harder.
After what seemed like hours I slumped back into the seat, exhausted and sobbing, tears flowing like I had never let them before.
The water was up to my shoulders and I was so very cold.
“This isn’t fair!” I shouted into the darkness. The water reached my mouth, covered my nose and I squeezed my eyes shut, panicked, my heart racing.
As soon as I shut my eyes, my day flashed in front of me in all its horrifying details.
Today was my eighteenth birthday, the day I had been looking forward to for years. I was finally free to get out of here; my bags had been packed for weeks in anticipation.
My mother didn’t deserve her title, she was nothing but a selfish drug addict turned spoiled trophy wife. My life was bad before she married my stepdad, I was moved around from one foster home to the other only to have to return back to her when she finished rehab or jail, whichever it was at the time. But when he appeared just days after my Grandfather had died, life became a new kind of hell!
He was a doctor, had been my mother’s doctor and was very well respected in his field. He bought her a new house in a fancy area of town and I had to change school. I didn’t really care about moving schools, since it wasn’t the first time but this school was different. St John’s was a private School and the teachers treated us with respect and dignity. We rode horses and played hockey instead of hiding behind the gym hall sneaking a smoke. The school uniform was cashmere and silk, not polyester and instead of dinner ladies we had a chef and I did not fit in, I couldn’t find my footing amongst the young and the vain.
It was all fake, the money, the flashy cars, the fancy clothes my mother started wearing, even the credit card in my back pocket, it was all for show. My mother had swapped one drug for another and now she got high on money, big, flashy parties and expensive overseas holidays while I was still invisible to her. Nothing had changed, except now I had to deal with Andras, who became a nasty, abusive and very violent when he drank. The social workers feigned ignorance, glad my young mother was finally clean and settled, and with Andras being so prestigious, so handsome and charming, they were glad I wasn’t their problem anymore.
I remembered only too well the first and only time I called a meeting with a social worker of my own accord to ask for help. I sat behind a little coffee table decorated with a cheap tablecloth and fake flowers, stumbling through the words, trying to tell her what Andras did to me, how he spoke to me, the perverted things he suggested we do when my mother was out. Hell, sometimes when she was downstairs in front of the TV he would come into my room purposefully shutting the door behind him. He came at all hours, whenever he needed a release, pulling me from sleep with a punch to the face, dragging me out from underneath the covers by my ankle. Not awake enough to brace myself from the hard fall to the floor, there was never enough time to react before the next punch or kick came at me with vile sneers and laughter.
Those were the worst, the nights when I dreaded falling asleep; the nightmares he woke me from were almost as bad as the real thing.
Shivers ran through my semiconscious body recalling the hell that was my life. My breathing quickened with panic just at the thought of him, using up the last of the precious air around me, I was scared and it felt like I had been scared all my life leading up to this point.
The elderly social worker had looked at me with blank eyes which had seen and heard too much. “Really Amy, what are you trying to get out of this? Did your stepdad refuse to buy you a new sports car for your birthday? I can understand wanting the attention at twelve, but now you are almost fifteen…”
She trailed of, taking a couple of notes before dismissing me, then she went and told Andras which only made things worse.
But now it was all over, today I was eighteen would have access to the trust fund my Grandfather had set up for me before he died.
I could get out now, I was free. That had been my plan this morning, to leave and never look back, my bags had been packed and as soon as I had signed the papers at the solicitor’s office I was out of there! Andras had gone along with it quite amicably, accepting belligerently that I no longer wanted to live under the same roof as him and had even helped find me a flat to stay in until I started at the UEL University in London after Christmas. But as soon as I got into his car I knew he had no intention of ever letting me go. He had told me he was going to drive me to my appointment with my solicitor but had to make a quick stop at the hospital on the way. When I climbed in to the passenger seat of his shiny white truck, I saw two men in expensive suits sitting quietly in the back.
“Hello, Amy,” one of them sneered, his large, grubby hands with fat sausage like fingers folded over his bulging belly, the buttons on his work shirt straining under the pressure of too many burgers washed down by too many beers. I knew then instantly I was in trouble, I turned to open the door and jump out, but it wouldn’t budge and a roar of laughter erupted from all three men. At the same time the engine started and the truck accelerated as Andras pushed down hard on the gas and tore out of the drive.
“You are not going anywhere Amy, not until we are finished with you. Did you really think I would let you walk out with your trust fund money burning a hole in your useless pocket? Hardly. “
His buddies joined in with his loud laughter as he headed towards the exit onto the overpass which headed out of town and in the opposite direction of the solicitors office. I stayed quiet and stared apprehensively out of the window as we left the city behind us, burning rubber as he zig-zagged around slower motorists like we were being chased by the demons who haunted him. I watched the scenery change from busy urban life to fields and trees rushing by in a green blur and I figured we must be in the most secluded place on the planet when Andras pulled off the road and manoeuvred his truck seemingly aimless through the bush, deeper into the dark wet forest. I stopped breathing, panic rising, the taste of bile in my throat.
As slow as I could I slid my hand into my bag and wrapped it firmly round the cool handle of the knife inside.
Not this time, not today.
Once the truck came to a stop the guys in the back jumped out, suddenly full of gleeful energy. I moaned as I saw out of the corners of my eyes how the fat one started opening his belt, I suppose this had been a long time coming.
It all happened so fast.
Andras turned his head to me, his normally angelic like smile pulled into a snarl of pure evil, his dark eyes ogling my body greedily.
“Come on Amy,“ he growled, “out you get!”
My arm took on a life of its own, the blade had drawn itself out of my bag, and my hand had twisted around and thrust it into Andras’s chest before I could blink. I remembered the hatred that had taken over my body; it was like I saw the scene evolve in front of me as if looking at it through a TV screen. I realised it had been me who had willed the knife to move, who had stabbed him three times before I let it the dripping blade drop to the floor by his feet.
It didn’t seem real, like it was my favourite TV heroine fighting for survival, not me, this could not be happening to me! I couldn’t die this way, I wasn’t ready, I hadn’t lived and I hadn’t loved.
I had never been loved!
He shouted out when he saw the knife, but once it had pierced his skin, he went deadly silent. Then both front doors had been ripped open. Andras had slipped out of the truck to chubby guys feet, lifeless and bloody. Strong hands grabbed me and threw me to the ground on the other side of the truck.
I was defenceless, I had dropped my only weapon, stupid me.
They were screaming at each other, articulating wildly, frantically trying to make sense of what had just happened. I decided to get up from the freezing cold and wet floor, neither of them paying any attention to little old me, too busy yelling at each other. I got to my feet and went to wipe the mud I had been pushed into off my hands and stopped dead; my right hand was covered in blood.
As the shock of it slowly rippled through me, freezing me momentarily in place, I didn’t see the fist coming; it slammed into the side of my temple and knocked me out cold.
When I woke up I found myself tied in the passenger seat of the truck, Andras slumped in the driver’s seat, his ugly pink shirt now stained crimson, his eyes dead. It took me a second to register the truck was moving, slowly at first, then picking up speed, rolling down a steep bank. I looked ahead and froze, in front of me the water of a rRiver glistened in morning the sun. I tried to wriggle free and heard the clinking of metal, felt it cold on my skin, which is when I realised they had used handcuffs, so tightly snapped shut most of the blood had drained from my hands them, my fingers already numb. I wasn’t getting out of those, the three-way harness was tying me securely in place giving me no wriggle room. The truck hit something on the way down, tilted to one side and tipped back over to make a jump as it hit a large rock full on, catapulting itself towards the water. My screaming stopped when I hit my head of the dashboard and all went black.
My thoughts returned from the relived nightmare of my eighteenth birthday back to the hopeless present. I couldn’t feel the cold anymore and pleasant warmth had taken its place.
I knew I was slowly dying, but all I could think about was that my stepdad was dead and that he could not hurt me anymore. He was finally dead and the relief of it overwhelmed me so my current predicament didn’t seem so bad. I turned my mind to my dreams and waited patiently to fall asleep one last time.