Afterlife Saga: Afterlife Part 1

AFTERLIFE.

By Stephanie Hudson.

Dedication.

Afterlife is dedicated to my very dear friend Faith Cottrell, whose unique humour and extreme kindness in life would have the G.o.ds both laughing with joy and being thankful for such a pure soul. And as I like to say...

"We all need a bit of Faith in our lives"

"What it means to have Faith"

All at once the world seems so small, lost in a vast s.p.a.ce of endless doubts, But beyond the sky full of clouds and dust is the light we see and the Faith in which we trust.

Friends' tears will fall and crash and burn, And rain to our feet with an unspeakable yearn, Heavy hearts and unrelenting hope we hold on tight, Not giving an inch, not with Faith's strength and might.

Laughter, love and never fading warmth, Is what your body sings, To our lives every d.a.m.n day, Is what a Faith's soul brings.

To say we love you is just words on a page, But to know we love you, Is in Faith's way to gauge, And you know to your very core, That we want nothing more, Than that love to s.h.i.+ne through, because Faith, We will always have you.

By an everlasting friend Stephanie Hudson.

About the Author.

Stephanie Hudson has dreamed of being a writer ever since her obsession with reading books at an early age. What first became a quest to overcome the boundaries set against her in the form of dyslexia has turned into a life's dream. She first started writing in the form of poetry and soon found a taste for horror and romance. Afterlife is her first book in the series of seven, with the story of Keira and Draven becoming ever more complicated in a world that sets them miles apart.

When not writing, Stephanie enjoys spending time with her very supportive family and friends, playing with her dopey deer hound Milo, who has a fondness for eating tennis b.a.l.l.s, chatting for hours with her biggest fan, her sister Cathy who is utterly obsessed with one gorgeous Dominic Draven. And of course spending as much time with her wonderful husband Rob, who is her real life hero, one that swaps his s.h.i.+ning armour for jeans and comic book t-s.h.i.+rts.

Also this year starts a new adventure for her in the form of motherhood as they both expect the first edition to their family in August 2012.

Prologue.

"Why are we afraid of the darkness when the light shows us more of the land of nightmares?"

I listened overhead as the footsteps grew nearer. My body convulsed as a natural reflex took over. Every fibre in my being was screaming as every sense told me danger was near. The smell of the damp s.p.a.ce was flooding my nostrils as though a rotting corpse was sat in the corner. The palms of my hands bled from the nails I was imbedding into them, knuckles bone white until every finger ached.

I heard him now, those boots he always wore, as if all of h.e.l.l dragged him closer to me using those boots as a mental torture. They were thick-soled like biker boots only every time he came to me I never heard the heavy roar of a bike's engine. I knew I didn't have long now until the foul breath of a true monster was breathing down my ear explaining to me how the things h.e.l.l created could feel, could love.

I didn't believe his lies...who could?

My breath caught in my chest as I had counted my time in the seconds I had left, was this finally the end, my end? The dark s.p.a.ce flooded with unnatural light and a figure emerged like death's silhouette. No matter how many times he had come to me I still couldn't prevent the gasp that escaped my bitten lips, trembling, swollen and b.l.o.o.d.y. Fear gripped at them making them quiver uncontrollably, the way they always did every time I saw something I couldn't explain. I wanted to be strong enough. I needed to be or I would never be freed from this curse.

The time was now.

This time was at an end.

The sharp sides I gripped dug into my hands making them slick with my body's liquid. I heard one footstep but I wouldn't turn my head again. Facing away from him I did what I had to do.

"Goodbye" I said with my last breath before my vision filled with blood.

I opened my eyes with a start, alert and ready. It took me a moment to understand my surroundings and take in all the other pa.s.sengers who were staring at my sudden actions. I guess on a long haul flight everyone was a little twitchy and the sight of me bolting upright gifted me with a few startled looks. It was fine; I was so used to those looks that it was like second nature to me now. I was a master at feeling numb and I stared ahead as if no one was around.

I scratched my arms out of sheer habit as the details of my recurring dream came back to me with a nauseating churn in my stomach. I tasted the familiar flavour of bile in my mouth, like the dark after taste my dreams always provided. I looked down at my arms and I released a sigh when I saw the long sleeves of cotton that covered them. Of course, the dream wasn't how it happened but it was always the same way my mind played it, no matter how wrong the details were.

"Did you have a nightmare, dearie?" I almost jumped as the first person in hours spoke to me. A plump, grey haired lady with a flower print top that looked like it was once curtains, smiled at me as she waited for the only words I could say.

"Something like that."

Chapter 1- New World.

New sights. New smells. New life.

This was New England.

Man, it sure was cold here, but h.e.l.l I guess I'd better get used to that now that my understatement of a "Crazy" life had brought me here. This was after all, my chance at a "new start" as my parents had been putting it for the last few weeks. But who could blame them, certainly not me. It wasn't as if they wanted me to go but more like needed me to go for my own good. Of course like any good girl, I nodded and agreed with every word, so I soon found myself packed and on a plane before I knew that the summer was over.

The whole journey from England had been a bit of a blur, the tears in my parents' eyes however were still fresh in my mind. Saying goodbye to them was one of the hardest things I had ever done and knowing it was for the best didn't make it any easier on either part. My damp cheeks mirrored those of my loving parents as I tried not to notice the underlining doubt in their eyes. I knew what they were thinking but not saying...

"Would I be strong enough?"

I made my way through the crowded Portland International airport at the arrivals gate looking for my sister's excited, yet anxious face and as expected, there she was, stood next to her huge husband Frank. They looked so perfect together. Frank's strong arm around my sister's shoulders, protecting her small frame from the rus.h.i.+ng crowd of pa.s.sengers fresh from my flight making their way to the arrivals lounge like cattle.

I had been so pleased that my big sister had met someone like Frank. With his heart warming smile and floppy, honey coloured hair that no matter how many times it was pushed back, still managed to make it into his chocolate coloured eyes. But for all of Frank's soft, easy going features his ma.s.sive muscular frame still proved him to be a man not to be messed with.

As soon as Olivia brought Frank home that day to meet the family it didn't take us long to realise that they were completely meant for each other. You could tell instantly that they were soul mates destined to spend a lifetime together. Although my very first thought was "Christ, my sister is dating a b.l.o.o.d.y Wrestler!" now I envied her in a way, never having felt like that about anyone myself. At the time I couldn't understand why anyone would change everything in their life just to be with a guy but I guess that's the difference, when you have never been in love before, you don't know how far that love will take you.

So it didn't take long before I found my sister was a married woman and moving to the small town called Evergreen Falls, New Hamps.h.i.+re. This was where Frank grew up and most of his family still resided there. His dream was to have a family there and live the upbringing that he and his brother had. Of course it didn't take long before it became my sister's dream also, and at least she could still make jokes that she still lived in "England" so to speak.

Although I was sad that she had left, I was also really happy for her. She hadn't had much luck with guys, so we all held our breath when she told us about Frank. Thankfully they fell head over heels and have seemed that way ever since, having been together now for over four years. Plus I really liked Frank, he is like the big brother I never had and boy was he big! As a bodyguard and now owning his own business recruiting others, he had to be.

That's how they'd met, my sister and Frank, she was at a concert at the time and he was contracted to provide the security. She had been stood in the wrong place when a fight broke out and she had been knocked out in the process and would have been trampled if Frank hadn't been doing his rounds and seen the whole thing happen. Like a knight in s.h.i.+ning armour he jumped from the stands and over the barrier to take my sister in his arms, s.h.i.+elding her from the angry mob that had started to join the fight. This quick action saved her from serious injury.

I had now heard this story a million times over and every detail was burned to memory but the smile it puts on my sister's face every time she tells it is what stops me from saying "Ok, ok, for the love of G.o.d please don't tell me again!" But instead I just smile with her and suffer in silence with a smirk here and there, thankfully one she doesn't fully understand the meaning of.

That same smile came full to her lips now as she spotted me and I smiled in response. G.o.d I had missed her and I now found myself dropping my bag and running into her open arms. The smell of her perfume hit me like a wave of memories that nearly had me in tears. We had always been more than just sisters, we were also best friends and as a consequence of our bond it never became easier when we parted.

"Kaz" was all she managed to say as the tears came running down those pink cheeks of hers which looked and felt cold.

"Lib's", we both used our nicknames since childhood, Libby and Kazzy, instead of Olivia and Keira which our parents had named us.

"I've missed you my little Kazzy, how you doing?" she said giving me one of those head tilt looks I had become so accustomed to and also tired of, since the "Incident". This is the name given to my dark past, one never spoken of but always remembered.

"Good..... I'm really good." I always over did it when answering this question, like pus.h.i.+ng an automatic switch that enabled me to say what everyone expected or whatever answer would make it easier for them to deal with. Of course then I was always paranoid whether or not they bought it and let's face it, I wasn't about to win any Oscars for my acting skills. I hated centre stage at the best of times, but seeing that this was a new start, at least no-one here would know of my past and I wouldn't have to act as if everything was just great all the time, when really I felt like I had died inside.

My sister on the other hand knew me well and pretended to be happy with my response, when of course she knew the truth even before she had seen me. Our mother had kept her well informed about my "progress."

"Great, well let's get your bags and get out of this ice box airport, I'm freezing!" A statement I totally agreed with. I chuckled to myself. Libby had always hated the cold. On the other hand, I didn't mind it so much. Growing up in the North of England, you got used to not having much of a summer. I enjoyed the seasons though, welcoming the different colours coming alive in the trees, the different smells that filled the air and most of all the snow. I loved the snow. The way it completely transformed the land, making everything look clean and crisp. Like a thick blanket had covered the earth to protect it in some way.

Getting my bags was surprisingly quick as I'm sure they must have been the first to come off the plane, so getting in the car, well to the heater in the car more like, was most welcomed. Libby complained about the weather as always. Living here hadn't softened her thoughts about the cold then.

The ride was also quick, mostly due to the fact that after 20 minutes of Libby's catch up gossip about people I didn't yet know, I was fast asleep. Car journeys always did this to me. I think it was mainly down to the rocking motion of the vehicle. Of course it was also down to the trust I held in the driver and thankfully Frank was driving instead of my scatty sister. It's not that she is a bad driver, just a bit...Umm...well, quick to arrive at her destination should we say, whereas I would prefer to take my time and get there in one piece without getting beeped at. Thanks to Frank's careful, smooth driving, I didn't wake up until we had pulled up outside their house.

I had seen the house in the pictures she had sent me via emails, but I now realised my little laptop screen really didn't do it justice at all. It was amazing to look at. I stood wide-eyed and speechless. My mouth had dropped and a wide grin lit up Libby's beautiful face.

"So I take it you like it?" it wasn't really a question as she already knew the answer.

"It's... it's so BIG" I said without needing to exaggerate.

"Welcome home kiddo!" Frank said as he grabbed most of my bags with one hand and opened my door with the other.

Finally I managed to say a lame thanks in a broken croaky voice. The emotions were getting to me as I fought back the tears that had started to form.

I was overwhelmed.

The place was huge and very old looking, with that ancient fairy tale touch. It had so much character, which I adored. It was a large wooden structure with faded white paint that just added to the charm. Cl.u.s.ters of little nooks and windows of different shapes and sizes and slate coloured roof tiles came down at different points on the unconventional shaped house. The front of the house was framed with a large deck, which even had a swinging chair that looked as ancient as the building itself. Faded green shutters framed most windows, which were now nailed open after being retired during the installation of triple glazing. Still the effect was charming and the whole aura left no question, this was one well-loved home.

What astonished me more was not just the house itself; no it was more the grounds it sat in. Positioned on the very edge of the White Mountain National Park, we were surrounded by deep forest and everywhere you looked were oceans of green, in fact I think every shade of green on the spectrum. The landscape was an endless flow of mountains overflowing with enormous trees that wound around the house like a barrier, encasing it in living, breathing safety. It was only when I followed them one by one did I notice a clearing to one side.

It drew me closer like a magnet as I walked forward to discover its treasure. There, in front of me, stood the most fantastic view I think I have ever seen in all my years on this beautiful planet. The view exploded into a sea of even more mountains made from a lush green carpet of thousands of trees, h.e.l.l it looked like millions! The beauty before my eyes held me captive like a rabbit in headlights taking my breath away. If I could cry, which I didn't do much these days after tears long run dry, I would have now. I wanted to show my pleasure in what I was seeing, but once again I was rendered speechless.

"It was inherited from Frank's uncle," Libby's voice brought me back and I turned around to see that she had followed me to the clearing.

"How old is it?" I asked, hoping for a background story on the place.

It looked like the type to have a few horrors in its past. It wouldn't have looked out of place in one of Stephan King's novels or even the family home in the movie Psycho.

"Not really sure, everyone in Frank's family we have asked can't really give us a date. But it's been in his family for generations." She made a strange face as she said this, which made me think there was more to the story.

"What is it?" I asked, as light heartedly as I could but from her face I knew this was it, any minute now she would spill the house's deepest, darkest secrets and then I would never sleep again. But I didn't care. I still wanted to know, no matter how horrible it was.

"It's nothing really, just a bit creepy that's all." She lent around me to get a good view of where Frank was. When she was happy enough that he was out of earshot, she continued.

"Well you know I told you Frank inherited the place from his uncle?" She said whispering in my ear.

"Yeah, so what happened to him?"

"Well.... he committed suicide." She waited for my response with that usual sad look in her eye whenever she said something that might "set me off."

"Where?" was all I managed, praying it wasn't in what was to be my new room.

"Oh no, no....not in the house, don't worry." I think she understood my mortified look of dread.

"Oh... well that makes me feel better at least, I was about to think I was going to have share my room."

"Share your room?" She looked confused about my answer as we made our way back to the house.

"Yeah, rather with a ghost or with you and Frank, 'cause I think I'd be too terrified to sleep on my own!" We both laughed at the thought.

"Nah, don't worry, if that ever happened I'd make Frank sleep in your room with his uncle. They would have something to talk about at least... being family and all." This just made us giggle some more like daft teenagers. It took me back to our naughty days when we used stay up late and we would tell scary stories under our blankets with a torch held under our chins for added affect.

"So where did he do it then?" I asked getting back to the morbid story.

"Oh...well that doesn't matter," was all she said and quickened her pace towards the house. This clearly wasn't the end of the story so I knew I would have to get it out of her later, when Frank was out.

Getting settled in wasn't hard, as my sister had already kitted my room out with everything. From family pictures by the sea, art I liked, to bedding in my favourite colour. It was the most perfect room for me, being both cosy and void of all memories.

My new bedroom was at the very top of the house on the third floor in the attic which had been converted. There were other bedrooms in the house but this one definitely had the best view, as the window was on the side of the house with the clearing, so I had a personal view of my very own ocean of green. This was why she had picked it she had informed me as she watched Frank carry all my bags up the stairs one handed.

I surveyed my room and looked at all the effort my sister had gone to. It was amazing how well she knew me. There was a pine double bed with deep purple covers and a mountain of pillows to match. A bright purple lamp lay on the bedside table, which even had a copy of my favourite book on it waiting to be read. It had been a while since I had picked up Jane Eyre, but it was most definitely one of my favourites. I just loved the idea of dear plain Jane getting the rich and broody Mr Rochester above the beauty of the wealthy Blanch.

A lump started to form in the back of my throat as the emotion hit me. This was how I dealt with emotions now. Instead of crying I just held my arms tightly across my stomach, with fisted hands and concentrated on how to breathe. My sister had outdone herself and certainly achieved making me feel right at home, no matter how new this all was. At this point in my life, new was good but above all...

New was safe.

Shaking those thoughts from the dark crescent of my mind, I turned back to the room that had a definite charming, homely feel to it. There was even a framed family photo of the four of us. I remembered when it was taken and it took me back to happier times. It was Christmas and it was after we had opened all our presents. We were all excited because my dad had just surprised my mum with an amazing gift for the family, a trip to Florida.

The trip was the first time for all of us in America. It had turned out to be our best family vacation. We did all the usual stuff, Disney, Seaworld and Universal, but this wasn't the only reason for the fun. It was also down to how close we were as a family. We had always been a close family unit but when the stress of my father's job started to put a strain on my parents' marriage, we as children learned the true meaning of a happy family life.

Libby and I were sent to live at our grandparents' house in the South of England for a while. This change was harder on Libby to accept because, of course being older, she understood all too well what this could mean.... the breakdown of that happiness.

I on the other hand, thought of it as a fun holiday by the sea. I loved staying with my grandparents and there were always lots of kids to play with. Cornwall has always been a popular seaside area, so I always looked forward to the summer vacations we spent there. As a family we would stay in my grandparents' guest house situated at the bottom of their ma.s.sive garden, but this time it was just Libby and myself, so we had to stay in the their house. We shared a room in the attic, which was cosy and had an old fas.h.i.+oned playroom feel to it. Situated in one corner was my grandmother's old wooden rocking horse with a real leather saddle and reins. In the other was a beautifully ornate, pink doll's house, which held tiny old looking furniture to match. We stayed all summer and although I missed my parents, I enjoyed the late nights and seaside treats, ice cream had always been a weakness of mine.

But Libby had never been herself the whole summer, and although my grandparents tried to put her at ease, it hadn't quite worked as well as it had on me, thanks to my sweet tooth and my ability to accept bribes. In the end of course, our parents had resolved their problems and come to get us. Soon after that my father had found a new job in advertising, which turned out to be the making of him. Our family was now back on track and stronger than ever, that was until the next breakdown, which was inadvertently caused by me.

"Well, I will leave you to it I guess, umm.... not that you have that much to unpack," she said with a smirk eyeing up my two small cases and one holdall. I knew it wasn't much and although my parents had been more than willing to send all I owned with me, I declined. I think deep down they knew the reasons for it but as with most things in my life, we never spoke about the reasons why.

"Yeah, I know I've not got that much, so a shopping trip is definitely in order!" This would make her happy, as it was one of the normal things we used to love doing together before "It" happened.