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Split The Deck

Summary

Emma already thought her life was shit. But then it got worse after a particular birthday party. She has to hurry before her time runs out, but will her Tarot deck lead her to salvation or her demise? (Warning for hinting of sexual abuse and radical abuse in the name of religion! Sorry in advance!)

Status
Complete
Chapters
15
Rating
3.0 (1 review)
Age Rating
18+

Chapter 1

The birthday party was coming to a close. A little observation I noticed as I stood and talked amongst my only friend. Claire, the birthday girl, was busy complaining to her father about Casey and I. I could tell she didn't like us, she thought of us as pity invites. How could she like us? We were the only odd ones here.

"You got a ride?" I asked Casey, crossing my arms over my chest and giving her a dull smile.

"Yeah…my Uncle is coming to pick me up. You?" She asked me, her muddy brown eyes leering warily at Claire. I shrugged my shoulders. I have been on the run from my family ever since the last…incident. I didn't really have any real place to go besides abandoned buildings. But I haven't told anyone that. Least of all, my best friend.

"I'm sure I can find one," I sighed, noticing the old, rusted blue and white Chevy truck pulling into the parking lot. I nodded in its direction and cleared my throat. "Your ride's here. Text me if anything happens, okay?"

Casey nodded, not bothering to offer me a ride. Her Uncle isn't my biggest fan after waltzing into Casey's room and finding me with my cards. He claimed I was "working magic" but I think he was just a scared ass little boy in a grizzly bear body. I sighed heavily, pushing myself away from the corner of the restaurant and made my way over to Claire and her father.

"Did you get ahold of anyone?" Claire's father asked, flashing me a polite smile.

"Um…no. Car trouble. I can just walk,"

"Don't be silly. I'm giving you a ride home."

"I don't mean to be a bother." I murmured apologetically. Claire's father assured me that it was no trouble. Outside I was met with the cold breeze slapping me in the face. I inhaled deeply, glancing around at my surroundings and admiring the amount of cars in the parking lot before reluctantly catching up. I enjoyed being alone, falling behind crowds even as small as this.

I adjusted my midnight blue jumper, pulling it down past my hips so as to cover the bulge of my tarot cards that were tucked in the rim of my pants. Catching up, I took my place in the passenger seat in silence. Behind me, Claire and her friend, Marcia, were talking loudly. I rolled my eyes, reaching my hand into my shirt and pulled out my phone.

Hey. Ur uncle see me?

I sent to Casey, receiving a quick reply.

No. He was cleaning the front seat 4 me.

I sighed in relief before catching a quick flash of two shadows going back and forth, it looked as if someone was fighting. My eye brows drew together, worry displaying across my face as I checked the side mirror. Red take out boxes were scattered across the ground, food spilling out. My eyes widened, the girls' chatter almost drowned out the sound of the drivers side door opening and closing. The car dipped down with a new weight being added.


My head turned slowly, my heart beat pounded in my ears and my breath silent but shaky. A man, tall and stoic, sat collectively in Claire's fathers' place. Black rimmed glasses covering icy blue eyes. Everything about him was immaculate, from his ironed, fully buttoned gray office shirt to his posture. Around his hand was a yellow–orange cloth. He took a moment to himself and my stomach dropped.

"Um, sir? You have the wrong car." Claire told him sternly. The man paid no mind to her words as he placed a white construction mask over his nose and mouth. His hand plunged into his pocket, pulling out a white spray bottle.


"Hey what the he—" Claire began, cut off by the man spraying her in the face. She fell out immediately, earning a panicked shriek from Marcia.


Shit! I cursed silently, attempting to remain calm as he repeated the process with Marcia. I slowly turned my head, my eyes spotting the door handle. I had to be careful, I was already lucky that he somehow didn't notice me.


Wow, Emma. Even on the verge of being kidnapped you are still invisible. Ugh, focus! My hand inched towards the handle, feeling the smooth, cool plastic. My fingers curled around the handle. He was about to pull his seat belt over him when the door unhinged on the lock, causing the car to beep.


I gasped, my head snapping to meet his cool, intense gaze. I swallowed my fear silently as he adjusted the mask and reached across the center console. I pressed myself against the door but it was too late. I barely had enough time to notice his hand, alarmingly hot, pressed against the back of my head to brace my fall before the world went black.

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