Shadowed Attachments: Attachments series, #1

By Patti Jean

You don't know me, but I'm standing at your door begging you pay attention. See, I know things that you may not yet know. I see things you don't even know are there. Some call me crazy, and you probably will too, but when you see that what I tell you is the truth… When you see the truth, then you'll be hunting me. You'll search for me. You'll need me to help you understand.
See you may not know this stranger at your door, but you will, and you'll need me. I came to tell you what I know, what I've seen. The rest is up to you. There's nothing else I can do. I'll run from you when you stand stunned after I tell you.
You don't know me, but very soon… you'll be hunting me, needing me, wanting me. I don't know you, but pretty soon… I will because you are just like me.
The question that you can't ask me right now, but I'll answer anyway, is trust no one or anything. For what you knew was all a lie.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Jean
• Release date: Aug 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386501299

Patti Jean

Writing has always been an outlet for me. Growing up, I’d write poems based on my moods or events happening around me. Eventually, they grew from there. It was a great way for me to clear my head at night. A way to kind of shut down the day, so to speak. Now here I am so many years later, finally taking the leap into the author world. I have three amazingly, beautiful children. They are the reason I push myself as hard as I do. They are my reason to strive each day to be better, to give them better. Our lives are like books. We’ve just got to write the story. So let’s write the best one to hit the pages.

Book preview

Prologue

The Father

SITTING HELPLESS IN the beyond is never a good feeling when your children are dying at an alarming rate. My children are called Gifted. They’ve been blessed by me with gifts to help where I cannot. Each are given a unique skill based on the life I see for them. The Inepts are closing in on them at an alarming rate. Each of their souls hanging in the pits of a Hell I don’t want to know about, but sadly I do.

With every single one of my children lays a piece of my heart and soul. They take from me and give to me in equal measure. If I could only do more... If I could only save them all. Unfortunately, Anubis creates more hate than I can find good in the world. What happened to the time when love was all we needed? What happened to faith beyond reason? To believing in the impossible and trusting that a miracle would happen?

Things have changed, but an even bigger change is coming. A change that I fear will either be the death of all the Gifted or their saving grace. Sadly, this was set in motion without me so I cannot tell how this will turn out, but I do know that many hearts will break before being brought back together in the end if all is saved. Happiness will be theirs for a brief moment, but there will come a time when Anubis will pull even at the tightest of bonds. My hope is that these brief reprieves between the horrors they will face will be enough to get them through each moment.

This action, that has been set forth without my knowing, is the wild card that will change everything, not just the possible chance of Anubis winning his battle to take over all innocents and Gifted. No, I fear that it could backfire and set up an unstable balance between the good and evil. At the same time, I hope that it will also give us an advantage against the Inepts as they do not have all the abilities that the Gifted do. Still, it all scares me.

Even sitting in my powerful position, I hold my breath and pray this is what saves my children. Yes, I pray to myself and to my children on Earth, that in the end we will all be saved, and not just our souls – yes mine included – but that of the innocents that live their day to day lives with no idea of the battle going on around them and how close we are to losing it.

As a protector of the innocents, it only serves that a danger would be in place to protect them from. That is where Anubis comes into play. Anubis is the like me to the Inepts, only his powers are a little more limited than mine. He must gain souls of the innocents in order to do something, whereas I have the power to share pieces of my being to my children.

The problem lies in that if an innocent is corrupted, I cannot help them. I can’t bring them the peace from my power. They belong not to me nor to Anubis. They are stuck in an in-between fate. It is up to them to redeem themselves or to give in to the dark shadow of false promise of a better life.

When an innocent is converted to an Inept, there are changes in the climate. Destruction is the price that the world pays when an innocent is lost, with things like tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, volcano eruptions and more.

However, the opposite happens when an innocent is saved. Not so much in the climate, but in the feeling of the world. Good luck is what many innocents refer to the positive effect that saving an innocent brings about.

Basically, Inepts bring misfortune, and the Gifted bring luck.

What worries me most is that changing what has been set forth for so many years has now been changed, flipped on its end, and I can’t control the outcome. Anger doesn’t rest within my being. I trust my children. They have performed their responsibilities without complaint. However, I fear for them now, unable to find the ending to what has happened without my consent or knowledge...

Bring Kali to me now, I shout, even though no one is in the beyond with me, but there doesn’t need to be. Kali is the only Gifted that can enter the beyond, face me, and survive. Moments later, Kali appears at my side. Her beautiful spirit shining for all to see, but only to fall upon my eyes. Though she is the strongest in the small group left, she’s the weakest. She’s only strong in the fact that she can withstand seeing me, but she cannot fight, heal, or any of the things the others can. She depends on me and them to keep her safe. However, even as she may not possess those traits, there is something else she possesses that takes her right up there with the strength of Talia, but she’s yet to see it. She will though. She’ll see it when she needs it the most.

Father, she bows in front of me.

Do you understand what you’ve done?

I don’t fully, Father, but I know it feels right. I know...

If what happens kills us all Kali... My fear of the unknown taking over and cutting her off. There’s very little I fear because most I see beforehand. This, what Kali has done, I cannot see beyond a wall of pain. Though the pain is there, there seems to be peace in the end, after I put into motion my way of hopefully being sure to save all of my children.

I know Father, but what if following what I feel is my purpose is truly what saves us? Will you be mad then?

Sighing heavily, I shake my head. I’m not mad, child. I’m worried.

Her head lifts and her eyes widen. Worried, Father?

Yes, child, worried for this is not a situation in which I can see the result. This is as blind for me as it will be for you. There are not many of you left...

We can handle this. This will save us all. You will see, she insists firmly.

Smiling, I nod my head and she disappears. Turning back, I watch the world below me. All I can think at this point is, I hope you’re right Kali. I hope you’re right. Though Kali is not the only one innocent of setting something in motion without my consent, I have to hope that the attachment they share will be enough to save them all. If we lose, the world will see a Hell they are not prepared for.

Chapter One

Waylon

STANDING ON OUR BACK porch, I look around the woods that are off in the distance. The woods have eyes, I hear my cousin’s taunting little voice whisper in my ear when I stood at the edge of it one time when I was younger. When I stand out here, sometimes I feel like he’s right. Like he’s telling me something that he knows for a fact. It has always felt like I’m being followed. Like one of the eerie paintings in my Uncle Jeffrey's house. You know the ones where no matter where you stand it always feels like the painting’s eyes are on you and following you no matter where you go in the room.

Shuddering again, I stare at the dark woods behind my house again. What if there really is someone in there watching me? What if someone is lost and needs help, but is too afraid to come ask for it? I’d be afraid if I were them. My father, Vlad, is constantly screaming. My mother, Lynette, is always drunk. My sister, Tessa, looks like a walking billboard for the tattoo and piercing shops in town, and I’m always too scared to walk anywhere near the woods and am always glaring in their direction.

My sister is only a year older than I am. See, in short, our father is an asshole. He was barely ever home. When he was, he was screaming. If he wasn’t screaming, well, that’s when it’s really bad. It didn’t matter though. The older I got, the more I stepped between him and my mom and sister. I took whatever he wanted to give.  Fourteen years on this Earth doesn’t make me dumb. The bruises and cuts don’t make me weak. Honestly, I’d take them again and again if it continued to save my mom and my sister. Though my mom would not win any kind of mother awards, she is my mother. I’ll protect her with my life. Tessa and I are close, always have been. No matter what happens to me during each beating, I’ll continue to take them because no woman deserves to have hands put on them by a man. No real man, in my opinion, would ever want to harm a woman.

Glancing back at the house, I watch Mom stumble into the sitting room with an empty glass as she opens the liquor cabinet to refill it. Sighing, I wish just one night I could feel what it was like to have a real father and mother. To come home from school and be greeted by a smiling mother asking me how my day was. Instead, I come home to her passed out in bed in her own puke sometimes, or to have a father come home all smiles as he greeted us, showing each of us how much he cares. Instead, I’m greeted by fists, pain, and his cynical laughter and taunting.

Determination setting in, I look back at the woods. Whatever may or may not be out there can’t possibly do more damage than what I’ve endured for the past fourteen years. Just as I was about to step off the porch, I hear the front door slam on our Victorian style home, the older windows rattling with the power behind it. All thoughts of the woods and what may lie within their darken dense depth forgotten. Immediately, the lives of my sister and my mother are more important than seeing if my cousin was right. Hurrying inside, I instantly step between Vlad and my mom, who he’s already started in on her. Mom has tears falling down her cheeks as she pleads with me to not stand in front of her. She does this every time. As much as she hates seeing me get hurt, it saves her, and for me as the real man of the house, that is a better outcome than her fragile body being battered by those fists.

For the life of me, I will never understand why she stays with him. She could leave him and make enough from alimony and child support to live off of and never have to work. I have looked into it several times, spending a lot of time on computers and searching through books in the library. It is one of the things I struggle with constantly. She pleads with me to stay out of the way, but yet she doesn’t seem to want to do anything to change the situation. There’s no way she can possibly love him. Regardless of her poor decisions, I will protect her as much as I can, no matter how bad it hurts.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tessa sneak out of the house and I can now focus solely on Vlad. It is a lot easier knowing only one person is in danger than trying to split yourself in two to protect another. Standing to my full height, which was about his height even now, I glare at him.

Leave her alone, I hiss.

Oh, Lynette, really? You have to constantly put Waylon in the middle of everything, Vlad laughs.

"She’s not doing anything. I’m doing what a real man would do. Since I’m the only real man in this house, I take my role seriously. If you don’t back off her, I swear I’ll fight back this time," I hiss with a voice that dripped venom.

What Vlad has no clue about is that for the last year, I’ve been taking kick-boxing lessons. Mom doesn’t even know. Every time before, I’ve never fought back. Childishly, I guess there was a part of me that hoped he’d turn into a man instead of, whatever he is.

You fight me, Vlad laughs. Oh boy, you don’t stand a chance.

Hit me, I hiss.

He needs to get one swing in so I can justify the attack he’s about to go through. One hit. That’s all I need to justify my actions. When I call the police, when I am finished with him, they will see it was all done in self-defense. His maniacal laughter is the only warning I get before he punches me, not just once, but three times.

Shaking my head, I smile at him. That’s even better, I state as if what he did didn’t even faze me any. Now, it’s my turn, I say as I pop my neck and ready myself for the fight.

Lunging at him, I hit him with a quick jab to the nose. The minute the blood starts spurting out my mother screams. It doesn’t stop me. This fucker has it coming. A sharp right hook knocks him into the table. Quickly, I move into a spin kick that hits just below his ribs. When he bends in pain, I strike to kill. Grabbing the sides of his head, I smash his face to my knee, kick one of his knees back and he falls to the floor. With one more spin kick, I nail him on the side of the head and he slumps to the floor, unconscious... only unconscious. Damn!

Waylon! What the hell was that, Mom shrieks running to Vlad’s side.

Payback. Taking out the trash. Whatever you want to call it, I just saved our lives, I reply, trying hard to catch my own breath.

How can she be concerned about him? If I had not done what I did, he would have been on her next. I have had plenty of broken bones and bruises, even cuts that required several stitches. It dumbfounds me that she is so concerned for him. He hurts all of us and she defends him. Vlad had even put Tessa in the hospital for two weeks after fracturing her skull and breaking several ribs that punctured her lungs. Yet still, Mom defends him and cares about him. Why?

Walking into the kitchen, I grab the phone and call the police. After telling them what just happened, they send out a deputy and remove my father from the home. Mom is so mad at me for what I’ve done that she won’t even talk to me. Instead, I’m shocked even further as she leaves to meet him at the hospital first then the police station.

Moving toward the front door, I still can’t process what just happened. She is treating me like I’m the villain here. How many years have I stepped in and taken what was meant for her? How many hospital visits have I been through protecting her? Yet somehow, she still cares about the very man that would kill her without a second thought. Opening the front door, the screen door slams behind me, echoing in the quiet night.

Standing on the front porch, I watch as the red and blue lights disappear down our driveway. Then soon, the silence of the night is broken once more by my mom peeling out of the gravel drive and hurrying after my father. How did I become the bad person here?

Standing there, I stare numbly out toward the direction everyone had driven and again I wonder... I wonder what the heck is going on. My mother would get my father out of jail and then he’d come home and continue to beat us. Does she care that little for us, for herself, that she’d force us all to live this way? Moreover, why is she so upset with me for giving him what he deserved? He deserved to know what it feels like to have the ever living piss beat out of him. It’s not like I was like him. No, I know I’m not. All I was doing was protecting my mom. That doesn’t make me like him. Does it?

I did ask him to hit me this time. He was going to do it anyway. All I did was bring it faster, right? There’s no way I’m like him. What I did tonight was self-defense and fear of what he’d do to my mom if he got a hold of her.

Dropping my head to my chest, I curse loudly. What if I am just like him? Where he doesn’t hide behind his, maybe I do? Maybe all there is left that separates us is the fact that I won’t let him hit Mom or Tess. Looking up at the ceiling of the porch, I fight at the disgust raging through me. I’m not him. No, I can’t be. He was going to do it anyway. I