Step Family From H***
Author's note: Um I hope you like it.
GivenHello, My name is Deston Nighthart and thats all I am tellign you about me for right now.
Death, Death, Death, I heard the words being whisperered over and over again. The screech of the car came next, the car slamming on the brakes, trying to stop. Slam, That was the car hitting my mom. The sound echoed over and over of her being hit. Screams came, the screams of me and my sister. And it repeated as it uasually did. But this time it was different, this time I was standing next to my
"Don't cry my darling."
I awoke from my nightmare. The nightmare that played the same scene over and over. The dream that replayed the death of my mother, the same dream I had been having for weeks. I panted, trying to catch my breath. I looked around my black room, frightened. I got out of bed, and I saw that I was violently shaking. I walked out of my room and scurried down the stairs, as fast as I could.
I turned into the dining room at the bottom of the stairs, heading towards the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. I opened my favorite 2% milk, and reached into the cabinet next to the fridge. I got a glass and poured my milk. I put my white treat back into the fridge, and turned around to see my step-mom standing behind me. "What are you doing?" she asked me. "I couldn't sleep. I kept having the dream," I replied recovering from the fear of her supriseing me. "Oh," she wispered, "I'm sorry. Do want to talk about it?" I shook my head, feeling annoyed once more.
My step-mother Brenna was a psychiatrist, so she always wanted to talk about the dream. That's all I would tell her, that it was the dream. I will never tell her the depths of it. She sighed and said, "Well, the best thing would be for you to go back to bed." I drank my milk, and went back up stairs. My belly was full and I was getting sleepy. I couldn't sleep though, because of the haunting thought about drifting back into my world of nightmares. The world that couldn't be controled. The world were no matter what I tried, It was always in control, always controling me.
I woke up the next morning, feeling as tired as I was when I went to bed. I walked into the bathroom, and got ready. I came out of the bathroom spiffed up, hair jelled, teeth brushed, and contacts in. I walked to my sisters frilly room. She came out of the door when I knocked, and raced me down the stairs. Downstairs, our step-mother was fixing a putrid breakfast. Corbin Daren Darcy, my step-brother, was vegging on the couch, watching tv. I rolled my eyes at his lazyness and grabbed a bagel. Brenna glared at me and asked, "Why aren't you eating this?" pointing at the food.
"Remember, I don't like bacon, only turkey bacon. Eggs... I only like them fried, not scrambled, and I am allergic to the cinnamon that's in your pancakes." She looked at me, confused.
"How did you know there was cinnamon in the pancakes?" she asked. I smiled and pointed at the bottle of cinnamon next to the pancake batter.
"Don't worry, you will figure it out one day," I said sarastically smiling.
She smiled back, and turned around to finish cooking. Angelica, my sister, was already out the door and walking to our grandma's. Angelica, with long, blonde hair, and blue eyes, walked to our Grandma's house every day. She normally walked with me, though. Grandma lived two miles away, in a simple cottage looking house. We walked there everday during the summer to visit with her.
It took us a while, but we finally got there. Grandma was waiting for us on her porch. She always acts like she hasn't seen us in months, even if she had just seen us yesterday. She hugged us, and ushered us inside. She took us straight to the kitchen, were she made us real breakfast. Turkey bacon, eggs, and toast. We ate in silence, and I noticed Grandma was worried about something. "Whats wrong, Grandma?" I finally asked her.
She looked up and said, "Nothing, dear," in her sweetest tone. I rolled my eyes at her. "Yes there is, now tell us."
She sighed in defeat and said, "Well there is something, I need to show you now." "Ok show us." I said
She nodded and took our plates. She then brought us up into her attic. She unlocked the door and let us go in first. The attic was huge with lots of shelves. Cute knick-knacks sat silently upon those shelves, with decades worth of dust piled on them. I looked closly at Grandma, and thought I was halusenating. Demon teeth, and and a ghost essence defined Grandma. I jumped back ,and then Grandma pushed us to the center of the attic. Grandmas inner demon came through her bones, and the strength was powerful. In the center was a pentagram. Grandma walked over to a book.
"Guardians of the spirit realm, hear and guide my plea.
When the witching hour rings true, bring my beloved daughter to me.
Other souls who hear my call are not welcome in this place.
Only the one known as my daughter may enter this sacred space."
I watched the florecent, glowing pentagram, and inside it appeared my mother.