by Willow Dean
A large boot stamps on the phone until it’s in a million pieces. Satisfied with his work, he stands up and points a golf club in my direction.
“You selfish child. This is your fault. If she just went ahead with the vision in the first place, we would never have ended up here. We would be rolling in riches and power,” he drawls.
I have no idea what he’s going on about, but I can smell the alcohol wafting off him from my position on the floor. He must have had a lot to drink for him to be this vocal. He can never usually string more than one sentence together sober, but the more he drinks, the looser his tongue becomes.
He crouches down before me and I scramble back to get away from him. Ignoring the nausea and pain the movement causes. “Come now boy,” he cocks his head. “You don’t want to play a game with your old papa?” He grins manically.
I look around frantically, trying to find something I can defend myself with. An umbrella sits in the corner of the hallway just to my right. He’s so drunk, he doesn’t even notice me eyeing it.
Remaining crouched on the floor, tilting his head from side to side, he watches as I stand unsteadily. Slowly, I edge my way over to the wall and he still doesn’t seem to notice.
“Your mother chose the wrong path, but we can right it. Two wrongs make a right, right?” Another tilt of the head. “Yeah, that’s the saying…what’s up must come down. So…what’s down must rise up again. Right?” Another tilt of the head.
Reaching my destination, and not a second too soon, I grab the handle of the umbrella and charge him.
Unable to stand fully in time, his movements slowed by the alcohol, my first hit connects with his head. I don’t know whether it’s the alcohol or just my lack of strength, but I put everything into it. Yet, it barely fazes him.
Standing to his full height, he growls at me and raises the golf club above his head. I manage to move back just in time to avoid his swing.
Positioning the umbrella straight out in front of me like a jousting stick, I run full speed towards him. Putting my whole weight behind the attack, I drive the end of the umbrella straight into his chest.
I honestly didn’t think I would have the power or strength to do it. I just thought about hurting him like he hurt Mum.
Adults always say scary situations can make people into superheroes. Hell if I know. I’m just an eleven-year-old who always wanted to be brave and save my mum from my father. I kinda feel like one of those superheroes on the television.
It’s meant to feel good when they win though, isn’t it? This doesn’t feel good. Probably because I’m too late.
I was too late. I couldn’t save her.
The golf club clatters to the floor as he drops to his knees and pulls the umbrella out of his chest. Making an awful sucking noise.
I hastily take a couple of steps back. Surely, he can’t get back up after that?! Blood still pours from his wound in thick gushes. I want to be sick.
I’m going to be sick.
Turning away, I throw up on the carpet and just stare at the puddle, straight past my shaking hands. My face is wet with blood and tears and it feels like there’s a marching band playing in my head.
Large hands grip my shoulders and I freak. Twisting in their grip, I try desperately to fight them off, but I don’t have any strength left.
“Rick! Rick! It’s okay. I’m here. It’s me, son. It’s Lachlan. You’re okay, Buddy. You’re okay. Look at me, Rick!” I open my eyes and look at the person who has a hold of me.
My uncle’s concerned eyes stare straight back at me. His face that’s contorted in anger and sorrow softens when he sees he has my attention.
“Uncle!” I cry, throwing myself at him.
“She’s crashing! Get the pads and bag on her. Claire, start compressions. Cleo, more Gelo. How much longer for that blood?! Rick, keep that pressure on her wound,” Doc commands sternly, the strain and worry in his voice hitting new heights as he yanks the t-shirt off Mila’s unmoving form.
People rush around me, each with their own role. I just concentrate on mine.
Leaning to the side so that Cleo can get in to reach Mila, it’s all I can do as my hearing fades and my heart races.
My vision is filled with Mila’s bare chest caving unnaturally with each push of Claire’s closed hands. Two pads secured on her abdomen and chest. Limp and white as a ghost. Eyes closed. Not breathing.
The machine’s beeping starts to slow. No longer as fast or shrill.
No. That’s not right.
There isn’t any beeping.
The machine’s silent.
Everything is silent.
To be continued….
Hey, you! Yes...you!
Thank you so much for picking my book up and giving it a go!
Without your support, there would be no one to bear witness to my internal ramblings. If you want to make me love you even more, then it would be super awesome if you could leave a review!
Either way, I hope you enjoyed the first instalment of Mila’s story. Take care of yourselves in this crazy world and I look forward to meeting you back here soon!
Acknowledgments
To all those amazing people who helped me complete my first ever book, thank you!
Special thanks goes to LaFringe , Persephone Steel, Serafina Jax and Daria Binx. You are the awesome sauces who have helped me to bring this all together and kept me sane (ish) throughout the whole process.
Of course, who would I be if I didn’t give my thanks to my beautiful mother and grandmother, who have supported and encouraged me in every possible way from the get go?!
Nan…I know you’ll be reading this and cursing me out for using the G-word, but it fits nicely. Sorry!
Last, but by no means least, my wonderful Beta’s! Gee, Melissa and Emi, your continued support and advice means the world to me. Your drawings, memes and just all round craziness has kept me going, so thank you!
To each and every one of you, readers included, thank you!
You are all amazing!
About Me
Living in the cold and rainy, grey paradise that is Manchester (UK). Willow enjoys nice cosy evenings in her gigantic bean bag, snuggled up under an array of blankets and fuzzy things.
Reading and playing Call of Duty with an American girl gamer is her ideal chill time. Even if video games bring out the monster from within.
Working as a full time Nurse, Willow enjoys helping people and making people smile.
She may not be able to release a multitude of books in quick succession, but you’ll always know that her creations will be from the heart and done with OCD perfection to the best of her abilities.
Even if self-editing takes about twenty years off her life!
Remember, everyone has their limitations, but that doesn’t mean they lack strength. Each one of us simply has our own specialities that we can share and teach to others, in return for developing our own weakness into strengths.
Your strengths are your skills. Your weaknesses are your power.
Also by Willow Dean
Census series
Little Phoenix (Book 1)
Book 2 - Coming soon!
Book 3 - Coming soon!
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