Eternal Read online

  Eternal

  The Ebony Child

  Book One

  BC Morgan

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright © 2019 by BC Morgan

  Dedication

  Eternal

  Chapter one

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019 by BC Morgan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  BC Morgan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  BC Morgan has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

  Cover art by Savannah Richey

  Formatting by Rozie Marshall

  Dedication

  To my wonderful hubby who has supported me every step of the way, even if he’s not a big fan of reading himself, my beautiful Twins who always bring light and laughter into my world and my mum who has been here for me every step of the way.

  To every reader who takes the time to read Eternal and hopefully the books to come

  And to everyone who played a part in making this book what it is, I couldn’t have done it without you.

  Eternal

  The Ebony Child

  Book One

  I was once born of blood, flesh, and bone, but no more. I lost that right when I gave up my soul for the hells to judge. Now I walk among the living, trying to find a way to fix this, but for all my might it may seem that I am no closer to fulfilling my mission. Stricken of the luxury to feel, taste, and fill my lungs up with air.

  It's funny what you miss the most, once you have lost everything.

  Please forgive me as I digress, but you learn to appreciate every little thing when you have nothing but time and no way to ever fully enjoy that time. So, let me tell you a story about a normal, typical, everyday kind of girl, who by making a choice damned herself for the rest of her eternal existence.

  Chapter one

  Unya

  I could feel the bones crunching beneath my feet with every step I took. I kept telling myself that as long as I didn’t look, I could not possibly know what it was I was walking upon. It was at that moment I was thankful for the utter darkness that was enshrouding me. I could see a light flickering ahead, but it was yet no aid to my sight until I drew closer and realised, I had been right. There were so many bones littering the ground; I could even see some which sizes ensured they had once belonged to a child. My hand flew up to my gaping mouth; I began to heave as I tried to banish the thought from my mind. I looked back up and was startled to see a young girl standing only inches in front of me. She held her hand out to me in invitation, but I did not dare accept it. “Who are you, why would you be in this place?” Her eyes narrowed in on me as she stepped even closer, and the smell of death permeated my nostrils. “This is my home. Now come, I must take you to him,” she replied. I slid my hand into hers and was shocked by the chill that spread like wildfire up my arm and straight into my chest. I clutched at my chest and was relieved to feel the reassuring thump.

  We arrived at the end of a walkway which led to a throne made of bones. The child had a smile spreading across her face, which only increased my anxiety even more.

  A man was standing at the base of the throne with two lads on either side of him. I tried to make out their faces, but I could only see their outline. I was drawn to the one on his left and I tried to close the distance between us, but the child had a vice-like grip upon my hand; she would not permit me to move. “Watch, this is all because of you.” Her words made me feel sick and I continued to struggle. The lad threw something at the menacing man, but he brushed it off with a cruel laugh. He threw his hand out and I watched on in horror as the lad was engulfed in flames. I felt the scream lodge in my throat as the lad cried out my name and the man looked at me. “Hello, Unya.”

  I awoke with the scream on the tip of my tongue, but I managed to shake it off as I repeated the all too familiar mantra; it was just a dream. I’d been experiencing them on and off for the past year, ever since I turned seventeen. At first, it had just been the floor covered in bones where I would hear a guy scream and then I would hit the ground running, but I never made it to him before I woke in a cold sweat. But lately, they had added the girl, the throne, and the terrifying man. I couldn’t understand why my mind was fabricating such violent images or why I could never see the guy’s face, the one who cried my name. Every. Single. Time.

  Once I managed to settle my breathing, I decided it was time to emerge from my pit and hoped today would be the day where I could successfully avoid the hell hound. AKA my Aunt Jackie.

  Please don’t start thinking of me as yet another disrespectful teenager. For one thing, I’ll be eighteen in just under seven months and then I am out of here. But the point I am trying to make is ever since my mum offed herself and left me to pick up the pieces, Jackie has been making my life a misery. It’s almost as though she is punishing me for landing on her doorstep. It wasn’t my choice anyway; where the hell was, I supposed to go? I’d only been fourteen when I had walked into the bathroom and discovered my mum’s body half submerged in the blood-stained water with her slit wrists on display for the world to see. I’d love to say I had a normal reaction to what I saw, but how would I know? I don’t exactly have any other situations I can compare it to.

  I remember sitting down on the toilet seat lid and pulling out my phone. I remember callin
g the emergency services and reporting what I had found. And I remember feeling absolutely nothing. No bouts of nausea or hysteria, no uncontrollable shaking or hiccupping as I tried to catch my breath. It wasn’t even as though I felt numb with shock. I just did not care.

  I never told anyone about my reaction, even three years on and still, no one really knows what I went through on the day of my discovery. The psychiatrist said that the fact I hadn’t cried was probably because my body had gone into a state of shock. Trying to cope with what must have been one of the hardest days of my life. I never argued with her, even though I knew she was wrong.

  I now refer to that day as the Dark Day. Everyone says they understand my reasoning for the reference, but, how could they? They never asked and I never divulged it. It’s not because it was a horrible day that destroyed my innocence, but because that was the day my emotions went dark and I stopped feeling anything.

  I know how that must sound, especially when I woke on the verge of screaming. It’s as though the only time my emotions come to life is when I’m in a dream. I can still feel them when I awake, and I let myself believe this is the day they are going to make their reappearance but to no avail. Within five minutes they are gone, and I return to my state of utter numbness.

  I stared at my reflection in the oversized mirror that sits in my bathroom. The first time I looked in a mirror after my emotions switched off, I sank my fist into it. I hated looking at myself, seeing someone who looked exactly the same and being the only one that knew that I was utterly changed; more than likely forever. I felt the bite as the glass bit into my fist. I could feel the pain growing more intense with every second but there were no tears, I didn’t even flinch. Jackie had come running in, took one look at the mess I made and just shook her head, clucking her tongue. She took me to the accident and emergency department where they plucked out the glass and wrapped my hand up. The nurse kept stealing glances at me as she worked, but at that time it was so new to me that I couldn’t even fake the emotions that I should have been feeling.

  Once I arrived back, Jackie passed me a dustpan and brush and told me to clean up my own damn mess. I’ve done it four more times since then, but never again at hers.

  I took one last glance before I jumped in the shower and tried to wash away any deprecating thoughts that may have been lurking somewhere within my self-conscious.

  I wiped the mirror, once I was dry and dressed, to apply my eyeliner. Thick and dark, as though I am daring someone to take a closer look and see that I Am Not Okay. That something is seriously wrong.

  I remember getting into a fight in school, it ended with her lying face down in the dirt. I had a black eye and a split lip, and I just smiled. I figured hell, why not, maybe if I faked being happy, I would eventually feel it. Everyone just looked at me like I was some sort of freak, which I do agree with of course and some girl shouted at me, calling me a sociopath. As she picked her friend up off of the floor and the crowd dispersed, I thought that maybe the bitch had been right. Maybe I was a sociopath. But the description did not fit. For those who did not know me, then yeah sure it could be quite accurate, but I knew what was going on inside.

  On the plus side, I made my first friend since the Dark Day. She had been impressed by my performance and the fact that the girl I had pummelled into the dirt had been picking on her. It hadn’t been my intention to get into a fight, but I couldn’t let this girl get bullied on her first day, so I jumped in head first. I mean that literally, by the way, I actually started the fight by slamming my head into her nose just to hear it crunch.

  I headed out of my room once I was ready to go and tentatively approached the stairs. I strained to see if I could hear anything coming from below. I was sure that the coast was clear and slowly made my way down, slipping my imitation army boots on over my faded jeans, which of course had rips in the knees. I had accompanied that with a black camisole top that had two yellow demon eyes on my chest surrounded by ominous grey fog. Teamed with my leather jacket I must say that I think I looked pretty badass. I made my way to the front door when a hand clamps down onto my shoulder. I suppressed a shudder that tried to work its way up my body and slowly turned around.

  “Must you continue dressing as though you’re one of Satan’s rejects?” She spat the words at me, and I consciously bit down upon my tongue to prevent myself from a retort. She circled me, a lot like a bird of prey circles its victims from above.

  “I understand that it must be difficult to become your own person with the way your mother died. Truth be told, it was a rather selfish way to go. And obviously, you do not want to spend the rest of your years being known as the poor orphan girl whose own mother would rather end her life then spend another day in her daughter’s presence.”

  She grabbed hold of the front of my top and pulled me up close to her so that my face was only inches away from her own. “I will not have you continuing to show me up the way that you do; with the clothes that you wear, the constant late nights, and fighting. While you are under my roof, you will respect my rules. I have taken care of you from the moment you landed on my doorstep, so I demand that you give me the respect that I DESERVE,” she shouted that last word and I could feel her hot breath smothering my face.

  I stared straight back at her, just letting her words seep down into my pores. I then placed both my hands upon her shoulders and slowly pushed her a few steps back from my personal space.

  “I will be gone in seven months. You could always give me your blessing to leave now, but then you won’t have access to the money that dear old mum left me. I will wear what I want, act how I want, and do whatever the hell I want. I have no respect for you. That is one thing that I refuse to fake. Also, I may be trapped here for the time being, but do not act like you have done anything in the way of looking after me. Ever since I got here, at the age of fourteen mind you, I have washed my own clothes, tidied up after myself, and cooked my own meals. I mean seriously, can you be any more of a deluded bitch?”

  I felt her fist connect with my face as I fell to the floor; the vision in my right eye was hazed in red as it proceeded to swell. I could see her smirking down at me, itching to see tears pour down my face, to see me grimace or flinch, but I didn’t do any of those. Her expression turned to one of rage as she brought back her leg and connected her foot with my ribs. With two more kicks to my face, she finally stepped back.

  I got up onto my hands and knees and proceeded to dry heave for a few moments before spitting blood out onto her new cream carpet. I slowly got to my feet, returned my gaze to hers, and just simply smiled. I swear her head looked as though it was going to explode with her fury.

  “You are a freak Unya! You are going to live and die alone, and no one would ever deserve that fate more than you. I always wondered what had finally pushed my spineless sister to do what she did, and you are just proving my suspicions were right all along. Who would want to carry on knowing that they gave life to an individual such as yourself, you disgusting little freak? And you better pay to have my carpet cleaned.” She took one last look at me and then stormed off into the living room, slamming the door shut behind her.

  I stole a quick glance in the mirror hanging off the hallway wall. I marvelled at my swollen, blackened eye, my split lip and then just shook it off. I knew I should have been in tears or something along those lines, but it was tiring having to pretend that I was a normal person, so I didn’t bother until I actually had too.

  Chapter Two

  Unya

  I sat on the wall outside Jackie’s house when a black fiesta came screeching around the corner I jumped up and practically fell into the car as my best friend took one look at me and flung her arms around my neck.

  “Addy I’m fine, truly. She was just pissed off at my choice of attire and I may have called her a deluded bitch.”

  Addy’s eyes grew wider and wider until I honestly thought that her eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets. “So, what did she say to you this tim
e, to cause you to lose your cool?”

  “She said that mum basically killed herself to get away from me and all she has done is basically take pity and care of me since I turned up,” I tried not to look as I explained this to her. I knew that she would expect to see tears at this revelation, but I just didn’t have the energy to make myself cry at this precise moment in time.

  “Do not hide your face from me, we have been friends for the past three years. Do you honestly think I am that stupid?”

  I had to look at her after I heard the pain in her voice. I mean, this is how I know that I am not a sociopath. I can understand sympathy and I can recognise how others are feeling, I even know how I should feel. Hell, my emotions worked perfectly fine until the Dark Day. It’s not my fault that something obviously broke deep down inside of me, maybe something that can never be fixed.

  “Look, I don’t know what it is you’re hiding, but I know that you don’t react the way that most people would. You smile when you are black and blue and bleeding from numerous places and I do not for a moment think that it is because you are happy. But maybe you’re trying to trick yourself into thinking you are. You are a great actress and you have a lot of people fooled with your performance, but not me. So, you either tell me what is really going on or I’ll stop fooling myself into thinking that you actually give a damn about our friendship. Because I do not hide anything from you,” Addy said it with such conviction that I decided to risk finally telling someone the truth about me.

  “Adrianna, you have been the most amazing friend to me, and I don’t deserve you. And even though I will probably lose you, I’ll tell you the truth, because it is the least that you deserve. Obviously, you know what the Dark Day is, but you don’t know the real reason that I refer to it as that. The reason I gave it that name is because it was on that day that I stopped feeling anything. I can feel the pain that my face is in right now, but it has no effect on me. I don’t feel sad, angry or happy. I have spent so much time on perfecting my act that no one can even tell, at least that’s what I thought until you called me out just now. Damn it Addy, I didn’t even react when I saw her. I just didn’t care. So, you can call me a freak if you want, everyone else does anyway.”