Prologue/Episode 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE

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Thank you for giving my story a chance. I hope you enjoy the story as you follow me on it. 

Please do not forget to vote, comment, and give your reviews for it'll be greatly appreciated.

This story is purely a work of fiction; no character name or location is related to anyone or anywhere. But if you find any, it's purely coincidental; do not take it to heart. 

Everything used here is mainly to enhance the enjoyment of the readers, and I do not mean any harm to anyone nor any authority. Thank you!!!

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PROLOGUE

The night was one of those nights that made you loose your mind with the cold. The sky was unkind and the harsh air unforgiving. Giant trees arced their weight, submissive, to the raging wind. Men and women ran, screaming and shielding, into their homes as they flocked their young ones in. 

Their addled movements like that of animals sensing the promise of a predator on the loose. The storm brought no rain, only the darkness of the sky and the chaos of a tempest. With each door slammed on its hinges, the storm accomplished its task. It was sent to drive the street to isolation and put fear in the hearts of its residents. 

The little town of Red Earth has known its fair share of natural disasters as far as a cooling rain storm in the summer. The News had said nothing of a murderous storm pulling anything in its path, instead, mellow clouds was promised. This well analyzed promise was broken with the help of the shadows in the woods, the ones with pure white eyes looking up to the sky, muttering words of an ancient god. Their lips moved in unison as their heartbeats drummed with excitement, slowly they spoke a spell untold. 

A spell that hexed the heavens and cursed the weather to rage, the storm was to keep a secret that belonged to the supernatural. By midnight, a man was to be killed and the humans were not to hear his deadly scream when his heart is ripped out of his narrow chest.

Miles away from the storm and its chaos, was a man whose heart wouldn’t be ripped out from his chest but it would never be truly alive after the night. 

His favorite thing of the city was the rollercoaster at the Amusement park because it was her favorite place. He loved looking at her ecstatic face when the seats were taken up to the sky, it was a fleeting moment but it lasted a life time in his eyes. Her curly, dark hair created curtains to her dun, soft skin. Her glassy, grey eyes sparked at the view of the city from the top of the world, it held fascination and absolute wonder before they crashed to a circle with her hands dancing in the cool wind and a smile that made the bright lights wither. 

He stood, shoulders immune to the cold that threatened the clangorous, ignorant city, his hands in his Jean trouser, his bold, unsmiling face frowned at the screaming rollercoaster. The park was full of kids, it was children’s day and the air smelled of candy, laughter and the promise of rain in the spring. She would have waved at every child that passed with prized teddy bears in their little arms. He only gave them a polite smile and a nod if they waved. He couldn’t remember how long he was standing in the middle of the park with a black and white teddy wolf under his arm. 

“She’d like a popsicle as well?”

He looked down at the crunched old man pushing a wheeled popsicle cart with a brown, ancient blanket over his skinny shoulders and head, the cloth and nose mask covered half of his face, his wrinkled eyes stared back at the unyielding eyes of a troubled man.

He pointed at the toy, “your little kid,” he began to open his cart, “I think she’d like a popsicle.”

“What makes you think my kid is a girl?”

“Wild guess,” the old man’s eyes exposed the quick grin under his mask, “what flavor would she like?”

“Chocolate.”

“Of course.” The old man buried half of his weight in the cart, “I seem to be out of chocolate.”

He took his eyes off the the old man speaking from within his cart, the rollercoaster was taking another set of ride, he should head back to her.

“What do you think of the day?” It was the strange old man again.

He frowned and growled under his breath at the direction of the old man’s gaze and deadpanned, “it’s a good day.”

The old man shook his head, “today is anything but a good day.” A lock of hair escaped from under his blanket as he turned his cart away from the young man, he whispered words only the chilling wind heard, “you’ll see.”

He watched the cart wheel its old owner into the crowd, offering no one else a popsicle. The sky began to open up, its sight promising a rainy night. He pulled his right hand from his pocket to grip the teddy that smiled at him. Slowly, he placed the wolf in a white gift bag. He slipped out a note from his back pocket, a promise scribbled in a slice of wood. He placed it with the wolf, the wolf would keep her safe. 

With a long inhale of the calm breeze, he lowered it by the purple purse on the bench before him. He walked past the laughter and goodness in the park into the gloomy and silent arms of the trees that surrounded the park. 

There, he waited till she found his gift. He watched her turn in circle, searching for him. He saw her smell the wolf and smile into its fur, she hadn’t seen the note yet. He couldn’t watch that part, so he turned and left a life that was never his.

EPISODE 1

The sun stretched its fresh glow from its horizon to the brink of the city. Yellow dust of the morning highlighted the towering buildings and unending highways. The rise of the sun didn’t mean much when the day had already began for many. People marched passed each other heading into shops, vehicles and buildings. The noise and crowd built up as each second of the morning passed. In a city said to never sleep, New York was awake for another day of record breaking traffic, hustling of the rich and poor and the lingering smell of coffee, garbage and pumping fumes. 

Coffee in hand, a black nose mask to block out the fumes, Zipporah walked out of her apartment building, the traffic was terrible and it was the last thing she wanted to get stuck in. She shot a text in her phone, reminding her father she had moved their meeting from the office to a restaurant few blocks from her apartment. Her dad didn’t live so far away from her but he was an habitual late comer, a trait she was glad she didn’t get from him. She was the annoying friend that got to the restaurant before the rest and sipped on water or wine before they showed up. 

Her slow pace was out of place with the hastened crowd around her, she got a few quirky glance as she hummed to a new Jonas brothers song playing on her grey headphone. She tapped the pause button on her phone to cross the road. Her nerves were tempted to dwell into anxiety whenever she thought about the reason for the meeting with her dad. It wasn’t that her dad was scary. It was that when anything related to business was the reason for a meeting with her dad it never ended pleasantly. 

She had chosen a public place hoping it would force him to hear her out without being dismissive or angry at her deep interest in the company. A major in business hadn’t been her first choice at a college degree but she grew up close to her parents, as an only child. Their love for the company and the urge to be in the same sync and harmony with them when they talked so passionately about work was one reason for her decision. A decision that never sat well with her father but her mother was happy to support a daughter who wanted to become her father. 

At the other side of the street she dug out her purse from her hand bag and dropped a dollar in the hat of a road side beggar and smiled to his thanks. It was something she learnt from her mom. Like her mom she always had change in her purse for the beggar by the street or any performing street talent. She was about to continue her song, the only thing neutralizing her nerves, when one of her best friend’s contact photo appeared on her screen. It was a photo she had taken of her in her sleep with a moustache drawn on her forehead. She smiled and picked, “hola.”

“Yeah yeah. Very funny. Mock me all you want but my Mexican bartender just left and we are thinking of making things official.”

Zipporah rolled her eyes and scoffed,“Yeah right, you just met this one last night. Your weird thing for Mexican men will be the death of you.” 

“That will be my third wish to the genie,” Alexandra chuckled, “anyway I didn’t call to let you know how my steamy, well satisfying night went. How did the meeting go?”

“First of all, very subtle of you. Secondly, I’m just heading to the restaurant. I’ll probably sit an extra twenty minutes before he shows.” She moved her headphone to her neck and placed the phone on her left ear.

“You will be okay. Just show him how ready you are to join the company. You worked your ass off for four years for this. Everyone expects you to take over and everyone knows you can.”

“Dad is so not everyone. He keeps saying I’m not ready. I mean I don’t expect him to give me the company on a gold platter, I’m ready to work from the bottom. I just need him to give me a chance, you know.” She sighed, the restaurant in sight.

“I know Zee.”

“I just wish she was here, she always had a away with him.” 

“Don’t let your head go there, she is here. She’ll always be here.”

 Zipporah nodded, she could already feel her throat close up, she tried not to go there but it was not as easy as advised. “I’ll call you later, I’m pretty close to The Blizz.”

Alexandra could hear the sadness in her friend’s voice, “you know Bella and Rose were talking about a sleep over at my place, I’m gonna text them back right now. So I expect to see you by six pm sharp.”

Zipporah gave a jaded smile, “bossy much.”

“That’s how we roll baby!”

This time she grinned, “I’ll call you after the meeting. Thanks Alex.”

“Love you baby, go get ‘em.”

The call ended as soon as she stepped into the homey establishment. She went straight for the booth by the edge of the restaurant, one that faced the door. She would be able to see her father once he came through the glass doors. She sat and placed her bag by her side, she took out a brown file, inside were written presentations she had spent weeks compiling to convince a man she sometimes felt was more a mentor then a father. 

She ran her eyes through the restaurant, it was your usual everyday breakfast restaurant for family and friends. It didn’t seem like a spot for a business proposal but she was hoping the luxury of its homely comfort would appeal to her dad’s decision. It had the best breakfast menu in the area according to her. The restaurant occupied a chatty group few tables from her booth, a young lady working on her laptop opposite the group and a couple by the counter. 

A white, tall waiter with lanky, appealing looks made polite eye contact with her as a she skimmed through the marker – written menu on a board behind the counter, she smiled and nodded, he walked over with a notebook and pen.

“Good morning, what will we be serving you today?”

“Good morning. Um, I’m waiting for someone, I think he’ll just have tea, no sugar and I’ll just have pancakes and scrambled eggs.” She raised her almost finished coffee, “and another of this please.”

The waiter gave an understanding nod and smile, “okay, be right back.”

She took the last sip of her coffee then left it at the far end of the table, her hands seemed cold so she rubbed on them. She reviewed the world from the window by her booth. The sun made everything brighter and less of what it truly seemed. You smile like the sun, she squeezed the ring on her middle finger, No not him. Not now. She couldn’t let herself fall down that rabbit hole. 

She threw her eyes back to the impatient cars and intolerant crowd. She watched a young woman admiring a wedding dress through a glass from a distance, she watched the woman wish and desire with her eyes. It held not sorrow but a mild understanding of something that might never be hers. A little girl ran from the end of the street to take her hand with melting ice cream on the other. They whispered to each other or maybe they didn’t, Zipporah just couldn’t hear them but their eyes told her all she needed to know. She was spying at the image of a mother that loved her daughter with all that she had and would have and a daughter that thought the ground which her mother walked on was royalty. She knew the feeling, the feeling to love with your soul and loose with your heart. 

The mother and daughter strolled down the street, hand in hand and for a split second she wanted to run down and plead with them to let her be part of their cocoon. The waiter interrupted her desirous moment with a tray of her breakfast. She thanked him and picked up her fork. She poured a little amount of syrup by the side of her pancakes, then tore it open and dipped it in the syrup. She sneaked the fired eggs into her fork and ate with little appetite. She took another bite then gave up. She pushed her plate an inch forward, her nerves were a wreck. She replaced her headphone to its former position, this time she played a fast, dancehall song but her mind was long gone to destructive memories.