Wilted (A Witching Pen Novellas Prequel)

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Wilted (A Witching Pen Novellas Prequel) Page 3

by Dianna Hardy


  ~*~

  Sex was something she had never really thought about before, not to the extent her friends at school did. They were all into the idea of it, most of them eager to share their snogging stories and whether so and so had groped whoever's tits yet. Elena didn't have a so and so in her life, and she sure as hell didn't have any tits. Of course, none of that mattered now … and now that it didn't matter, all she could think about was sex. Life was cruel. Very cruel.

  She shifted on the floor where she'd been sitting curled up for the past half an hour – her bum was getting numb. She could feel where her tears had dried on the skin of her cheeks. A glance up at her bedside clock told her she had to be at Karl's in fifteen minutes. Fresh tears threatened to brim over her eyes, but she pushed them back with a shake of her head. No more crying – she could do this.

  Nothing had even happened between her and Karl earlier – it was a non-kiss, and she could forget about it. She had to forget about it…

  And Karl would forget about it too, because Karl was Karl. He was easy going and accepting of the things that got thrown his way; besides, he was two years older than her – no doubt she'll be finding him with a girl on his arm before too long. Her throat constricted, and she almost threw up at the mere thought of it.

  She pulled herself to standing and glanced at the photo of her and her mother, on her bookcase. It was the only photo of them together that she had, and it had been taken at the park when she was six. They were both beaming happiness – Elena at the camera, and her mother at her.

  On the other end of the same shelf, was a picture of her with her friends, Sophie and Laura. Sophie had moved to Lancaster a year ago, and Laura no longer hung out with her, preferring the company of those who were a little more part of the 'in-crowd' than Elena was.

  Every other photo she had in her room was of her and Karl, or just Karl. A lot of them consisted of them pulling stupid faces together; most of them held treasured memories for her. Her favourite was the one taken about two years ago. They both sat in a field of Lavender, under an August sun. They had placed the camera on a log and set the timer on it, then rushed back to position before it went off; only a rabbit had darted past them at the last moment, and Elena had squealed with delight. At the exact same time, the sun had burst forth from behind a cloud.

  The resulting photo consisted of her, wide-mouthed, jumping up and pointing off to the right, and Karl looking up at her, laughing. The sun's emerging rays had bounced off the lens, causing a reflective spot just above Karl's head. It made him look like he had a halo, and where the light refractions spread out and ended, gave the illusion he had wings.

  With a startling clarity, she all at once understood that she would never get over Karl – she had nothing and no one to get over him with. She had no ammunition. She could never move on. She'd never know if she could have loved him – she would never know love at all.

  The air seemed to suffocate her.

  This was the end. Love. Ends. Here… Now.

  Catatonia rose within her – she couldn't breathe.

  Something tapped at the window. A stone?

  Somehow, she managed to put foot in front of foot and make her way to her sill. The sky was just fading into twilight, and its grey clouds had finally shed their water – it was spitting with rain.

  Karl stood on the road looking up at her. He raised his hands and signed, Hello.

  A faint smile touched her lips. This was one of their things – they had learnt basic sign language a few years back. It had started late one night, when his parents' arguments had gotten so bad he couldn't stand to stay indoors any longer, so he'd tapped her window with a pebble, and since scaling the front of her house was damn near impossible, they'd spent a rather amusing evening trying to guess what the other was saying, like a really bad game of charades. After that they'd decided they would learn to sign, so that if it ever happened again, at least the night would go by more smoothly.

  I still have five minutes, she signed back.

  I know, but I was worried about you … you okay?

  He always knew when she didn't feel right. Her smile widened, even as a tear betrayed her and slid down her face. Nevermind, he wouldn't notice it this far away.

  Mum just gave me some bad news … I'll tell you about it in a minute.

  Okay… He hesitated, then raised his hands again. I'm always here for you, you know that, right?

  I know … thank you.

  As he turned and walked away, fresh panic took her over. She'd never get to say it, to anyone, ever, so she said it now to his back, hands and fingers trembling as it made the shapes of the words.

  I love you.

  Forcing herself away from the window, she gathered her homework and stuffed it in her rucksack.

  I can do this, I can do this, I can do this… She could do this for Karl.

  She couldn't give of herself – he needed to let her go. She would tell him what her mother had told her, and she would act like it was no big deal. She would spend the next three years not falling in love with her best friend, then she would go to university, and he would be free. She could do this for him.

  She slung her rucksack over her shoulder, and glanced around the room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. The yellow of the daffodils in her window box caught her eye. The rain was falling harder now, pounding them into submission.

  She straightened her back.

  Flowers wilted.

  She would not.

  ~*~

  Katherine's hands shook as she placed the last of the plates in the dishwasher.

  She heard Elena's footfalls on the stairs as she bounded down. Without a word, they continued on down the hall, then out the front door. The door closed with a firm bang.

  Not able to hold herself up any longer, Katherine sank to the floor with a keening wail. She clasped the amulet around her neck – the one that had hidden the lie from Elena's mind – and ripped it off her. Self-loathing coursed through her, and what a wretched emotion it was. She wondered if she'd burn in hell for this… Better her than her daughter.

  Taking in deep breaths, she tried to gather herself … and failed. Sod it. Five minutes … she'd allow herself five minutes…

  The foreign sound of her desperate sobs filled the air.

  She'd be fine in a moment. In a moment, she would stand up tall, harden her heart and carry on as normal.

  “I can do this, I can do this, I can do this…” she whispered, holding onto the words like she'd hold onto a life raft. And she could – she would. She would do this for Elena… She would do anything for Elena.

  Thank you for reading this eBook!

  If you enjoyed it, please share the love and consider leaving a review somewhere, or telling everyone you know – word of mouth is the most valuable source of marketing an author could ask for.

  ~*~

  About The Author

  Dianna Hardy is the international bestselling author of The Witching Pen series, and the Eye Of The Storm series. She combines a titillating mix of paranormal romance, urban and dark fantasy into her writing, to bring you stories that are action-packed, fast-paced and not short of heat, with the focus on both character development and the plot. She writes full-length novels and short fiction, and resides in Surrey, UK, with her partner and their daughter.

  Main site: https://www.diannahardy.com

  Also available

  The Witching Pen (Book One of The Witching Pen series)

  The Sands Of Time (Book Two of The Witching Pen series)

  The Demon Bride (Book Three of The Witching Pen series)

  The Last Dragon – the final instalment of The Witching Pen series

  All updates can be found at https://www.thewitchingpen.co.uk

  Other Titles

  A Silver Kiss (Vampire Poetry)

  A dark and daring addition to the literary world of vampirism, this is a collection of rhyming and freestyle poetry that explores the often taboo themes of power, po
ssession and seduction.

  Emotionally charging, each poem is written from a different perspective, be it the hunter or the hunted and inspires a deeper look into the psychology of the human mind and the darker aspects of human relationships and society.

  Age range: suitable for older teenagers to adults

  Published by Bitten Fruit Books

  All details can be found at https://www.vampirepoetry.co.uk

 


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