Dark games people play - Vol 3 E-Book

Rita Bondi Bates

• Herausgeber: Youcanprint
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

AUTHOR:RITA B. half English half Italian lives in Romagna Italy with her husband Umberto since 1980.DARK GAMES PEOPLE PLAY is the third volume of six short stories. Volume 4 to follow.Stories that reveal the dark side of human behaviour... leading up to an unexpected outcome.

Leseprobe

RITA BONDI-BATES

DARK GAMES PEOPLE PLAY Vol. III

Youcanprint

Copyright © 2013 Youcanprint Self-Publishing

[email protected]

Title | DARK GAMES PEOPLE PLAY - Vol. III Author | RITA BONDI-BATES Cover by author ISBN | 9788891108753 First digital Edition 2013

This eBook can not be traded, trade, loan and resale and may not be distributed in any way without the prior written consent of the author. Any unauthorized use or distribution is a violation of the rights of the publisher and the author and will be sanctioned civil and criminal penalties as provided by law 633/1941.

HEADLINES

I closed the door silently behind behind me, standing on the doorstep, suitcase in hand, waiting for the taxi to pick me up.

I turned the key in the lock, two turns…I held the key tightly for just a moment longer before dropping the whole bunch into the letterbox, I heard the clang of the keys as they fell onto the hall floor they would be found in the morning. No table laid for breakfast, no hot coffee and tea in the pot, no goodbye note, no forwarding address.

All the bills had been paid up to date, the house cleaned top to bottom, all cupboards had been emptied of my personal belongings leaving no trace of my stay.

I had been happy for a short while, I had worked hard trying to make them love me, giving up all my time, selflessly, buying them presents, filling the rooms with fresh flowers, planting roses in the garden, the thorns flourished……….I could sense them laugh behind my back, they loved giving orders, making fun of me when they thought I wasn’t aware..

Yet, I really cared for them, or was I the one in need of love? Yes, I wanted to be wanted, to feel I belonged to someone, somewhere.

The taxi arrived on time, I handed him my note with the address of my destination, he smiled and took my case.

I bought my ticket from the automatic machine, I still had a good fifteen minutes before the train was due, I went over to the drinks dispenser and helped myself to a coffee and a packet of chocolate wafers, in the haste of leaving I had forgotten to have breakfast.

I sat shivering in the cold unwelcoming, waiting room, I wrapped my scarf around my ears to keep the cold air away that was coming through the half open window. I kept an eye on the train schedule monitor, relieved to see that my train would be on time. the room was bare, except for a filthy blanket piled in a corner, looking closer I realised that someone was asleep under the pile, another poor lonely soul just like me. I felt a tear spill over down my cheek, this seemed to be the story of my life, waiting, searching, wanting, never finding..

The train was not crowded, hardly surprising at 5am, I sat by the window, it was still so dark, sunrise would be a while yet, the bare limbs of the trees boasted a silver coating of frost, the early morning sun would eventually uncover the new life still dormant, spring was on its way.

I reached my destination, a young helpful train inspector handed down my small suitcase as I descended from the train, “have a good trip” I lip read, he smiled and waved as the train took off once more.

I walked all the way to to the convent, the heavy oak doors were still locked. I knocked, Mother Superior was there waiting for me, she welcomed me with a cold stiff smile.

She took my hand and guided me silently towards a small room with just a bed and a chest of drawers, which was to become, my new home.

I am tired, weary, my soul screaming for redemption, for freedom, I have no voice, I have no sound, yet here I am, as always surrounded by silence, silence that has accompanied me from childhood to womanhood, no one caring to listen to my soul, or to search into my heart.

Mother Superior handed me a newspaper. “The Daily Voice”.Front page headlines,

“FAMILY OF FOUR MURDERED IN THEIR HOME.”

I smiled, and handed back the newspaper.