13, An Unlucky Number (FULL LENGTH!!!)

My book 13, An Unlucky Number is quite a long novel about a case worker named Angela. Her life is scarred by the need for revenge of a man named Steelo and his accomplice Skull. Together they try to settle a century old score, striking at Angela in any way they can. Victims piling up, Angela tries to run but whether Steelo and Skull succeed or fail at their path of destruction, 13 will turn out to be Angela's unlucky number.

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9. Adam

It had been a week since Angela and Henry had arrived at the strange house of Jamie's Aunt Petunia and already they were both getting stir crazy. Angela sighed. At least we have somewhere, she said to herself. Every night Angela had settled Jamie to bed, but still his dreams remained disturbed by memories and nightmare-like imagination and all she could do was cuddle and comfort him, telling him it was all right. She had got out of the house only four times to get shopping for Jamie's aunt. There she had met a nice guy, but she wasn't exactly sure he was right for her, though she did think he was right for her. Even though now was the perfect time to take an opportunity like that, Angela tried her best to stay focused on Jamie. However hard she tried, though, she could not stop thinking about him. Adam. That was his name. They'd only exchanged a few words, but it was enough.

Walking up and down the ice cream aisle of the supermarket, searching for some cornets for Jamie, Angela opened her satchel to get out her wallet. She had enough money for about another week, but she was cutting close to skint. Though technically she was not his family and not even responsible for him, Jamie's Aunt Petunia insisted Angela paid for all of Jamie's stuff out of her pay. This seemed quite typical of the old woman and Angela was sure she only let Jamie in her house on the basis she would not have to look after him. She'd been doing all the housework; tidying, sweeping, washing up, ironing.. everything, since she got there and she believed Petunia was just using her seen as she wasn't used to having a pair of hands to do things for her. Angela picked up two boxes of cornets, chocolate and strawberry, from the freezer and placed them in the shopping basket. That was three pound twenty already, but all she cared about was Jamie's happiness and she didn't want him to worry about her money problems. She then paid and left the supermarket.

Staying close to the inside of the pavement, Angela started back home. She then reached into her satchel and grabbed her purse. Angela counted her money and forgot about concentrating on where she was walking. Suddenly Angela banged into someone walking out of the local vets and dropped her shopping, though she only had the two boxes of cornets. Leaning down to gather her bag back up, the person she had bumped into helped. She then looked up to see Adam leaning close to her and placing a box of strawberry cornets into the shopping bag. They both smiled. "Hey, didn't I bump into you in the supermarket the other day?," he asked rising to stand back up. "Yes, you did. Adam isn't it?," Angela replied. "Yeah. Angela if I remember correctly." "Well, you do. Angela it is." She then noticed the black and white cat cradled in his arms, and realized why he was coming out the vets. "And who's this?," Angela asked. "Oh," Adam looked down at the cat he was holding, "This is Dennis. He's just been to see the vet about recovery from an abyss. He's fine now." The cat poked his head from Adams arm, gave a huge yawn and settled back down. The two walked together seen as Adam had offered his company to Angela.

Angela had watched sorrowfully as Jamie fell asleep, mourning her lost son. He could be anywhere by now. Though seeing Jamie's face light up when he saw the cornets she had arrived home with had raised her spirits. So did walking with Adam. They had arranged to meet the next day and they were to have dinner together. Angela also missed her partner Graham. She still sensed his presence now and again, but it was never the same as having him right there beside her, someone to fall asleep with, to feel safe with. "There's no point harping on over lost memories, get a hold of yourself.." she muttered to herself. She felt lonely, although she still had Jamie.. her forever friend.. someone to care for. But it wasn't the same. She also now had Adam. Even though Jamie was a great friend with a heart of pure gold, and an absolute jewel to look after, she sometimes wished her life was a little less sinister. Now that Jamie was asleep, Angela felt alone. She had always felt delicate inside, and all it took was her partners tragic death to shatter her and throw her overboard into a life that was hardly worth living. But then she found Jamie, and everything started getting gradually better, excluding a few instances. Angela's cat, Celene, had always been of some comfort to her, but she was dead too. All she had left was Jamie, and perhaps Adam. 

Angela then heard a bit of noise from upstairs. Jamie. She walked into his room to find Jamie sitting up in his bed with a distressed look on his face. "It's okay Jamie," she told him, "It was just a dream." She gave him a small cuddle, laid him back down into his bed and bent to give him a small kiss on the forehead. Angela then pulled back from crouching above him and left the room as Jamie began top drift back to sleep. She turned, looked back silently over her shoulder, and walked back down the stairs to lie on her own. She didn't want to, but she didn't have a choice. This was her only accommodation supplied. She hated seeing Jamie waking up every night from such vivid nightmares. It was like torture for both of them, and Angela wished she could end it. But she could do nothing. She tried to hide the shiny, painful tears trickling slowly down her cheeks. She wished it didn't have to be like this, for either of them... especially Jamie. He should be in a nice house with a family that cared for him. Not here, stuck with her and Petunia. Her skin was warm but inside her heart was growing cold and her Languorous mood deteriorated. Her weak eyelids began to droop and gradually her eyes reluctantly closed. Her mind began to frolic as horrifying dreams were assembled.

Angela's body was frozen, paralyzed, fixed. Adam was lying motionless below a dark, dis-configured shadow. Blood pooled around the body that rested beneath the villain's malicious claws. "Adam..." she wailed at a silent tone, as if she was too scared to speak louder, and her breath was heavy as tears collected at her eyes. The strangers eyes were bloodshot and scarlet, their glare piercing like a razor. Adams body then morphed into a familiar face. Graham. Angela solemnly looked out in true horror and disgust crept into her eyes. Anger filled her bones. She darted out towards the murderer, slashing his eye and grazing his face with the dark object in her hand, knowing she didn't even stand a chance. She wailed... and silence.

Angela woke violently unaware of the fact that for the last eight minutes she'd been kicking her legs ferociously, thrashing and slashing at the air. Her head ached and her chest was heaving with every breath. Sweat beaded her forehead and fringe with shiny drops that lingered on the skin and tips of each hair. "No..no..." she muttered, her voice wasting away. Only then did she realize she'd had company the whole time. Jamie was standing next to her, eyes sleepy and exhausted looking. She leaned up. Angela remembered every detail of the dream, like it clung to her very existence. Her dream seemed so real, and yet it was almost a reflection of her past. But why was Adam there? Was he in danger? 

Her arm and neck grew pain, and yet there was no specific reason. They bore scars from long ago wounds, but none recent. She realized that it must have been the dream that reminded her of the pain on her scarred arm and neck. The remembrance of a dark, shadowy figure grabbing her by the throat and nearly throttling Angela to death. He was still ripping flesh and tearing at her clothes when Angela had gone wild with rage. She had called up her reserves of strength by that time and gained her footing. As Angela had struggled, the foe was still dragging on her throat and her anger passed into panic. She had almost been dancing, turning around and around, stumbling and falling and rising. Angela had struggled vainly to shake off the clinging menace... but then he had let go. She had no idea why... but he had. And lying on the bench-like sofa, she came to a realization. The person who had done that to her... who had killed Graham, was one of the men in her kitchen. But why? She looked up at Jamie. What was he doing out of bed? He certainly looked like he needed to be back in bed.

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