Wednesday, 21 March 2012


An excerpt of Going Under (unedited)

 Pulling open the curtains to let in the morning light, Evan gazed out of the glass pane and at the rolling hills that surrounded his house on every side. His house. It sounded good in his head; new house and new beginning. Surveying the beautiful countryside that the large farmhouse was sitting smack dab in the middle of, he wondered how he could be anything but happy here. It was perfect – almost. But he wouldn’t think about Mack now – couldn’t. If he let himself walk that road he’d end up in a useless heap on the floor and those boxes wouldn’t unpack themselves.
Lost in his thoughts he started when he heard a slam. “Fuck,” he hissed, dropping the curtain and padding out onto the landing. He heard it again, coming from the bathroom. Swallowing, an uneasy feeling unfurling in his belly, he opened the bathroom door and looked around the room. Everything seemed in place. His toiletries were on the shelf in a large shoebox and the stack of towels he’d unpacked yesterday, were still sitting in the bone dry tub.
The tub was one of the things that had attracted Evan to the property. It was huge and at six, one in his bare feet, a tub that he could actually stretch out in was something of a novelty. It sat in the middle of the room on claw feet with old-fashioned steel faucets and the head end higher than the foot end, like something you would see in a Victorian lady’s boudoir. The white porcelain was cracked a little with age and he would have to repaint the underside with some specialized paint, but he didn’t care. The proportions of the room and the grandeur of the fittings, albeit a little worn, were basically what had clinched the deal.
“Jesus Christ,” he spat, spinning around when the door to the bathroom slammed behind him. His heart pounded in his chest when there was another slam and he span back to see the large window at the end of the room banging in the wind. “For fuck’s sake, Griffin,” he admonished himself, walking over to the window, pulling it shut and securely latching it. “It’s an old house. The window was open which made the first slam and then the centrifugal force created by the window and the door being open caused the second.”
He stopped in front of the mirror he had hung above the basin the day before and ran his hands through his shaggy hair, scratching his scalp with blunt nails. “If you’re going to think that every knock, creak and bang is something sinister, you might as well pack up and go back to the city right now.” He shook his head at his reflection. “And stop talking to yourself,” he added with a smile before firmly closing the door behind him and heading back to the bedroom to get dressed.  
“You think moving house can get rid of me, Evan?”The young girl watched the man move around the bedroom from her seat on the deep window sill. “You always were stupid,” her cold brown eyes narrowed, her lips curling in a cruel smile. “I’m not going anywhere until you and everyone you love has paid for what you did.”

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