This is my latest novel. C&C please?

Enjoy.

Part one.

Jodhi.

Prologue.

I was four years old when it happened. It was summer: a dark, humid night, and we were lying awake looking at the glowing stars stuck to our ceiling. I looked over to Amelie, she was on her back, flat as a board, her eyes searching the imaginary skies above her head. I watched her for a minute, her eyes seemed bright as the moonlight came through the french doors to spill across our room.

“Jodhi?” She asked, her voice quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just wondered if you were still awake.”

“I’m too tired to sleep.”

“That makes no sense.” I knew that, but I couldn’t describe it any other way. I was restless, but I couldn’t sleep, no matter how tired I got, because it was too hot. “Too warm, huh?”

“Yuhuh.” I nodded my head, and smiled. “How comes you’re still awake?”

“Too hot.” Amelie smiled back. At seven years old, three years older than myself, she was my role model, my goddess. I watched her as she returned to staring at the ceiling, and the moonlight coloured her pale skin an odd silver, her dark hair seeming to sparkle against the bright white of her pillow.

“I don’t want to sleep.”

“I do.” Amelie replied slowly, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Good night, Am.”

“Night Jodhi.” She whispered my name, and I smiled, knowing that at least she loved me.

It didn’t take me long to sleep, after all, Amelie was already sleeping, and whatever she would do I would love to do as well. So I settled down under the duvet, for habit’s sake, and fell into a peaceful sleep about ponies and rainbows. The weather, as I’ve said, was warm and my night dress clung to my skin and wrapped in coils around my legs.

I don’t know how long I slept, or what time it was when I woke up, but it was still dark outside. Bleary eyed I scrambled around in my bed, shielding my eyes from the light that was beating down on them. I thought it was a bit strange, and got up only to turn it off so I could sleep some more, after all I had school the next day, and Amelie had probably only gotten up to go to the toilet anyways.

I crawled from the sheets and stumbled to the doorway where the lightswitch was and flicked it with a practiced wrist movement. The light flickered on, to my surprise, and I felt my pupils shrink dramatically. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness, but when I did start to see things, I didn’t see what I expected. My panicked eyes scanned our room; the twin beds were a mess, and the floor was scattered with broken glass. I looked down at my feet, noticing for the first time the ribbons of cut skin and I felt my eyes begin to water. The window was banging loudly, what little was left of it that wasn’t shattered all over the floor, and all of Amelie’s toys were scattered across the floor amongst the glass.

At first I didn’t know what to do. I clamped my eyes shut, and opened them again, but still Amelie’s bed was empty, and she didn’t walk in with the apology that she had broken the window. I was silent, my lips starting to bleed almost as much as the little cuts on my feet were, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t control the urge to cry. Great sobs flew through me and the salty tears burnt my lips. Amelie was gone. She’d been taken. I’d heard about the people that did these things, but I never thought it could happen. Amelie was gone.

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

The search that ensued is something that I will remember for the rest of my life. For the next twenty-four hours my life was in a total upheaval. There was no playgroup, and daddy left to go and help the police men find her. Mom told me that they’d find her, that we shouldn’t worry. But she also told daddy that the forensic people never found any clues as to who might have stolen her away.

I could definately understand who would do it. I mean, Amelie was the best sister anyone could wish for; she was kind, and caring, and always made me feel better when I fell over, or hurt myself. She made Christmas cards with me, and sung songs to me, she even gave me presents just because she loved me. The question wasn’t why they had taken her, no. The questions that I wanted answering, and that nobody could tell me, were why they didn’t take me, and why I didn’t wake up. It felt like it was my fault, even though they told me I couldn’t have stopped them anyway.

I cried at night for ages, had nightmares about black shadows stealing away my parents. I saw nothing in my sleep but Amelie’s face for years, and though I grew up, I never stopped thinking about the sister that they never found. The one who I knew was alive, but sometimes, I wished was dead so that I could truly mourn her. I wished that I could have gone too, because whoever she was with couldn’t hurt me more than they already had.

TBC