Believe me when I say

All Rights Reserved ©

Summary

Morgan is a fourth grade teacher in a sleepy New England town in the White Mountains. Then tragedy strikes. After years of intense therapy, Morgan picks up and moves further down the coast to get away. Or so she thought.

Status
Ongoing
Chapters
4
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
18+

Coffee and Chaos

Morgan had nothing to do today.


No chores.

No classes.

No children.

Nothing.


So this morning she woke up late, tossed on a navy blue, butter soft slip and made her way into the kitchen. On the island she noted her curriculum binder, still untouched for September start, and breezed over to the coffee pot to hit start. The strong, bold scent of strong coffee filling her space made her equally navy blue eyes and long lashes flutter closed. She didnt even have to open them to know where her mug was. There is no need for cream or sugar, just black.


A few minutes later and she was sweeping out onto the balcony of her second story condo through the antique french doors. The Northern wilderness of the White Mountains opened before her, and she sighed. It was perfect.


Two steps out, three, she went to the deck stairs to check the gate, then gave a little whistle. "Fenny.." she called and tilted her head, dirty blond, curly hair falling into her face. "Fenny.." she said a little more firmly before turning on her heel. What was his problem? The wolf dog had never not come to her. He also never wandered too far from the small complex or ventured without his master. "Fenrir!" She called his full name and pursed her lips, waiting. Damn dog. Was he inside still sleeping, or was he out? She suddenly couldn't remember.


Sipping her coffee with both hands, Morgan took a slow step. "Fenny.." she said quietly, hissing a whisper. "Fen?" There was a silent but pregnant pause in the air. Something was wrong. Off. Taking a half step into the house, the long, gauzy curtain billowed as she did, catching her off guard. Morgan had no chance as a large hand with boney fingers slid into her hand along her scalp, closing and gripping her hair, yanking her inside. In the choas and cries and gasps, there was a howl... a low growl. A pitch of some kind, then a deafening bang... another howling cry. Morgan cried out.. she knew. "FEN! NO, NO. WHAT DID YOU DO?!"


Morgan saw stars as the hand that grabbed her dragged her back into the house. In her starry-eyed vision, all she could see was red... then the white carpet beneath her face. This was all wrong as her cheek rubbed against fibers and blood, her dress thrown up.. her hair askew. She knew what would come next could feel surprisingly soft hands up the backs of her thighs. There was a sob from her throat that sounded far away. No one ever thinks it will happen until it does.