Like Father,Like Daughter - Hugs.And.Kisses (best novel books to read TXT) 📗

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The brakes screeched, but it was too late. They had been going to fast, and the road was too slick. I felt my ribs cave in as the vehicle slammed into my side.

Flying in slow motion

Everything seemed to slow down as the force lifted me off the ground and sent me flying back.

Wind through my hair


I saw the horrified faces of the occupants of the car in perfect detail, felt the pain lacing through the left side of my chest with every breath I took, felt the cold wind whipping my hair up around my face, and felt the hard rain pouring down on my scalp and arms.

And ripping through the scene that's made of the wreckage


The wind was knocked out of me as pain tore through my chest and back I couldn't breathe. Why couldn't I breathe? Something was wrong with my neck too. I couldn't lift it. But it wasn't broken, because I could still feel everything hurting.

It is not a secret

My vision was red and fuzzy; the blood vessels must've burst. I blinked many times to try, and fail, to fix my eyesight. But it seemed that every time my lids closed, they got harder to open. My body was going numb, and I felt, scratch that, I WAS suffocating.

Speeding


Then it hit me; the feeling that my mind was being torn out of my body and being pushed in at the same time. I was going to die. I was dying.

Into the horizon


I managed to lift my head and look at the cloudy night. It was probably just my oxygen-deprived brain playing tricks on me, but it seemed like the clouds were just disappearing, leaving a clear, starry night.

Dreaming of the sirens


As my head fell back to my chest, my vision was going black. My head was ringing again; if I had survived, I would've had a serious concussion. Maybe even brain damage. My muscle control evaporated, and I felt… not hurt, not even particularly upset.

Wishing for broken glass on the highway


I felt free. I turned around as I sensed someone behind me. "Hello Aubrey."

It could be so easy

Only it wasn't the Grim Reaper standing there. It was my father-

-My third birthday… the cliff… Oogie's shadow…

-with a knife in his hand.

-Sandra stole a plastic knife from the kitchen and cut herself with it.

-He plunged it into my stomach, and pain shot through me. "No…"-

-The car… the tree…

-But then it wasn't my father. It was Lock holding the dagger's hilt, pushing it in deeper, intensifying the pain-

-So much pain… like my heart was being torn out…

-driving it deeper and deeper through my body until it came out the other side-

-No… stop! Wake up!

-driving my mind into darkness. And Lock was laughing. No. Not Lock. Oogie. Shock. Barrel. Jack. Sally.

Me.

And then the dagger was gone. It was pulled out. The shadows surrounding me started to vanish, and I could feel my body; my limbs stiff, something heavy pulling me down so bad it felt like my legs were going to be pulled out of their sockets, but I was still being held up by something cold and hard across my wrists.

My head snapped around as something, or someone, hit me hard across the cheek. "Wake up! I want you conscious for this." I groaned and opened my eyes a little, my vision still blurry.

The figure in front of me said something else, it wasn't nice, I could tell that much, before disappearing around my side. My eyes opened wide as I felt the steel that had been in my chest bite into my wing. I screamed as the flesh was hacked away in painful chunks. I screamed as I felt the bone being sawed through like wood, only much more painful. I screamed until I couldn't gasp in the air to scream anymore. Then, the knife vanished, stopped cutting through my limb, and left my body feeling strangely… uneven. I realized then that my wing was no long my wing. It wasn't attached to me anymore.

The figure walked in front of me again, going to my other side. I knew what they were planning to do, and I fought. But what good would my fighting do when I could barely move? The pain came back, harsher this time, and I couldn't stop screaming again.

Finally, the deed was done. I let my head fall to my chest, too tired and numb to do anything else. I didn't have the air to sob, so my body settled for little whimpering noises that I couldn't have stopped if I'd tried.

The figure's footsteps stopped again, in front of me. "Since you and Lock are no longer an item, dear sister," I felt cold fingers against my chest, "You'll no longer need this." I felt something pulling against the back of my neck, then felt a snap, and realized that my necklace was gone.

The silence was overwhelming for a few minutes. Then, I heard, "Aubrey?" It was Barrel. For some reason, the fact that my friends had just seen this act made me cry even harder. "God I'm sorry."

I managed to remember how to shake my head. "No…" I gasped out, barely loud enough for even me to hear. "It… not your f-fault."

I heard a growl, obviously Shock. "That bitch is gonna pay for this."

I blinked a few times, the tears clearing from my eyes. I could see again, at least. Pulling my head up, I looked around. Shock and Barrel were chained up to the walls in front of and next to me, and both seemed to be in okay condition, save the fact that Barrel had blood dripping down his left cheek.

"Who-" I coughed; my throat was sore from screaming. "Who was that?"

Shock and Barrel looked over at each other. Shock sighed. "Her name's Vanessa. She's your twin."

I stared at her. "I don't have a twin."

"Yeah, well she sure looks a lot like she could be." Barrel told me. "The only difference is that her hair's black."

I swallowed, then winced. That hurt too. "She was talking about Lock… where is he?"

Neither of them spoke.

"Shock? Barrel?"

Shock looked up at me, sympathy obvious in her black eyes, even from across the room. "She… Vanessa, I mean, cast a memory spell on Lock. He doesn't remember you anymore."

If my heart had still been beating, it would have. "Great. This can't get any worse."

"No, but I think it's about to get better." A familiar voice said from the doorway.

xXx

Lock looked up as Vanessa walked into her room, slamming the door behind her. "Something wrong?" He asked.

She smiled at him. "Actually, I've never felt better." She tossed something silver onto her bed before walking over to her vanity chair where Lock was sitting. "Scoot."

He got up and walked over to her bed, sitting down. Vanessa's room was decorated much like you'd expect a rich, spoiled, five-year-old to be. There were quite a few stuffed animals, most of which were bigger than Lock, and a huge four poster canopy bed. Only instead of the frilly pink that a child would've preferred, everything was black lace and spider webs. Except for one wall, which was covered by the huge mirror that reflected the entire room and that Vanessa was staring into.

Lock rubbed his eyes as the room started to blur again. He blinked as the decoration, no, the entire room changed, showing him another darkly decorated room. The mattress below him was softer, more… familiar, almost, and the stuffed animals vanished. The ribbons hanging from the walls disappeared, replaced with gray paint, with the random spider web placed here and there. The huge dresser vanished, and a small table appeared next to the bed. A picture frame rested on the smooth, flat top. He stared at it. He, Shock, and Barrel were in it, but his arm was out, like it was supposed to be wrapped around something… or someone.

But then he blinked again, and the strange room disappeared. He shook his head and let himself fall back on the bed, his hand brushing over cool metal. Lock looked over, picking up the object. He began to stare again at the bright crimson stone as his mind flew off again.

"I wanted to give this to you at least once since Barrel had to do it for me last time."

Lock put a hand on his throbbing head and sat up, looking at Vanessa.

Except it wasn't Vanessa.

The long black hair was gone, replaced by silvery white hair in a short crop, framing a face almost just as pale. The crimson and black mini dress was replaced by a black sleeveless top and jeans. A pair of feathered ebony wings unfurled from her shoulders.

"Lock, stop spacing out." He blinked and the stranger was gone, and Vanessa was staring at him like he had gone nuts.

"Sorry." He muttered, tucking the necklace in his pocket.

She shook her head, turning back to the mirror. "Well, whatever. Like I was saying, I need to recharge for a couple of hours. Make sure no one moves me, okay?"

He nodded, his claws still playing with the jewelry in his pocket. Vanessa slumped over in her chair, and the mirror glowed for a moment. Blurry at first, an image formed.

I'll give you one guess what that image was.

Vanessa sighed, reclining on the reflection of her bed in the mirror, which was absent of Lock. "I really wish daddy would hurry up and get my body fixed." She looked over at Lock, who had a faraway expression. "Lock!"

His head jerked up. "What?"

"I thought I said to stop spacing out."

'Getting a bit bossy, aren't we?' Lock thought. "I'm just tired."

Vanessa lost her cold glare and giggled like a toddler. "Well then take a nap. Duh."

Lock flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes, the image of the girl he saw burning into his closed lids. He frowned slightly as sleep began to overtake him.

'Who are you…?'

xXx

-Twenty minutes earlier-

"Alright Jakie. She's good and tight; now let's go. I think we've earned some 'us' time, don't you?" I heard a grunt and footsteps faded from the room. Opening one eye, I looked around. It was empty. I waited until the footsteps had completely faded before I began to work. My wrists were chained close together; close enough that even my little fingers could reach the seams on my left wrist. Of course, reaching them wasn't the problem. The problem itself rested in undoing my seams.

'Note to self: never redo the stitches so tightly.' I thought, pulling the last one free. I dropped slightly, held uneven. My hand scurried over to my ear and pulled out the needle there, offering it carefully to my mouth. Taking it in my teeth, I slowly transferred it up to my still attached hand. My left hand hopped back onto my wrist, balancing carefully. I'll say this about my detached limbs having a mind of their own; they certainly seem to know what they're doing.

After a few failed attempts at putting myself back together, I decided to go with Plan B. As soon as my other hand