by Wendy Knight
Eden shrugged and walked forward, seized the bottom of the door, and heaved it upward with a grunt. The physical effort it took to open the door made her pant. She only weighed a hundred pounds and was shocked the door hadn't taken her with it.
"Thanks," Rebecca said, grabbing the side of the van and pulling herself inside. "I wish your father had paid for an actual moving company instead of making me do all of this myself. You know how I hate to do physical labor."
Oh, boy, Eden thought. Here we go again. Eden knew her mom was baiting her so she could go on a tangent about Dad. She had been the victim of that ploy enough, she knew not to fall for it again.
Eden entered the van, selected one of the boxes, and grabbed it with a grunt. Rebecca held a single tiny box in her arms, but she huffed as if it weighed ten thousand pounds.
"Don't you think this would be easier if your father was here?" her mom asked, once again wiggling the hook in front of Eden.
"I suppose," Eden said, "but he had to work. It can't be helped. He's the one who got us the house to begin with, right? It's not like we can complain."
Rebecca sighed. Eden stole a worried look at her before jumping off the end of the van and then walking toward the house. She approached the front screen door and stared at the cobwebs on it. Cleaning the house inside was going to be a chore.
She shrugged, reached for the door, and twisted the knob. When she stepped inside, she gasped. Even on the inside, the house was run-down, but like the outside, it had charm. The walls were pained tan, the floors were tiled with golden slabs, and pictures still hung on the wall from the previous owner. She stopped to peer at one and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The picture was of a dark-haired boy with bright blue eyes.
At the slamming sound coming from the end of the hallway, she jumped and dropped her box of antiques on the floor.
"Hello?" Eden asked, fear clenching her stomach as she stepped forward. Rats, maybe?
She entered the next room and discovered the dining room, which connected to a large kitchen. But there was a major problem. There wasn't anything there, not even a rat.
****
Eden lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Downstairs, she could hear the sounds of yelling and banging. She rolled onto her side and debated covering her ears. Yet if she did that, she wouldn’t know if someone got injured. When her parents fought, there was always a possibility of cuts or broken bones. Her dad had once had his cheekbone smashed in because Rebecca had hurled a hairdryer at his head.
"You were sleeping with the neighbor, weren't you?" her dad asked, his voice somehow still reaching her even though she was all the way upstairs.
"How dare you!" her mom screamed.
There was the sound of something splintering. Rebecca had probably thrown a plate.
"I don't need to take this," her dad yelled. "I work twelve hour shifts so that you can have your expensive outfits and your makeup. For what? To be treated like this?"
"If it wasn't for you, then I wouldn't be stuck in this place at all. Lizzy said marrying you would be a mistake." There was more thudding and then more shattering. "It's entirely your fault. The past sixteen years of my life have been a mess because of you."
"Judging by how Lizzy ended up, I wouldn't recommend following her choices. Where is she? Cold in the ground because of her own mistakes."
"Shut up. Just shut up." There were foot stomps upon the floor. "One more word. One more. I'll do something drastic. I swear I will."
"Then why don't you just leave, like you always do?"
"Maybe I will."
Something heavier was thrown this time. Eden could tell because there was a bang and then a dull thud. Eden had heard this sound enough times to know what it meant. Her dad bellowed a nonsense word downstairs.
There was the sound of pounding feet on the stairs and then trudging in the hallway. Rebecca opened her door without knocking and barged inside. Her mom's face was covered in a sheen of sweat, her makeup was smeared, and her curly red hair created a frizzy halo around her head. Eden straightened up, spun around, and seized her backpack. It had already been packed with clothes.
"Get ready," Rebecca said. "We're leaving."
"I know." Would clothes for two nights be enough this time? She hoped so. She hated it when they were gone longer than that. "I'm ready. Where are we going this time?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes, seized Eden’s hand, and began to drag her down the hall. "You are so much like your father during times like this."
Eden knew her mom didn't mean it as a compliment.
Rebecca thundered down the stairs with Eden following behind, and the two of them went into the kitchen where her dad stood on top of heaps of broken glass and the remainders of a blender. When he saw them come in, he nodded his head at her and sent Rebecca a cold smirk.
"See you tomorrow, Rebecca," her dad said. "I won't be back from work until ten o'clock, so don't wait up."
"Bite me," Rebecca said acidly.
She frowned, went out into the garage, climbed into their white car and started the ignition. Eden climbed into the seat next to her and drew her knees up to her chin.
Astraea Press
Pure. Fiction.
www.astraeapress.com
Table of Contents
Feudlings
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Spells
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