WeatherMaker Hearts Desire Prologue

He didn’t know when it first began, couldn’t remember that far back, but he grew up thinking it was normal, and living everyday in fear.

‘Bill’ called a voice. ‘Bill! Come here.’

Bill scurried across the kitchen towards his mother, clutching his little toy horse to his chest.

‘Take your sister’ his mother hissed to him wide-eyed, ‘and hide somewhere safe. Your father’s coming.’

‘Come on Violet’ Bill said to his younger sister beside him, taking her by the hand and running with her to the next room.

He waited there behind that closed door, watching through the crack as his mother stared out the window, biting her lip the way she always did when she was nervous or scared.

Behind him his sister Violet clutched at his sleeve tightly, clinging onto him.

‘It’s ok little sister’ Bill whispered back to her. ‘I’m here.’

Bill looked back through the crack, leaning into the door and breathing as quietly as he could through his mouth.

Then came the noise they dreaded.

The front door opened, and heavy boots came stomping in.

‘Where are the children?’ came a booming voice.

‘They are outside playing my dear’ his mother replied. She sounded happy, but Bill could hear the edge in her voice and the way it wavered.

‘Where’s my food? Why haven’t you cooked anything?’

There was silence, and then the sound of someone being slapped.

Bill saw nothing through the crack as his parents went out of sight, but he heard the beating, and then he heard the begging.

He withdrew quickly from the door as he heard his father’s boots approaching, dragging his sister with him and hiding with her in a cupboard nearby before either of them were seen.

His father opened the door and stormed through the room, then back outside, perhaps to go look for them. But Bill dared not leave the cupboard, not even to check on his mother. He was too frightened, and could only imagine how his poor sister was feeling.

They stayed there for hours, listening for their father.

Everything in the house would fall still again, and things would calm down. Only then did the pair feel safe to leave their hiding place.

It was always the same afterwards. Afterwards he would tell her how sorry he was, and how much he loved her, and how he would never do it again.

But it was all a lie.

Nothing changed.

Things would continue the same way every day, but as the years went on, things became worse. It was every single day now that his father would raise his voice and say the most horrible things to his mother, and Violet began to cry.

‘Shut her up!’ his father would yell at Bill. ‘Shut her up!’

And then he would round on his mother, raising his hand to her again as if it was her fault. But this time it didn’t happen behind closed doors, and Bill saw everything, cowering in the corner of the kitchen, cradling his crying sister in his arms. Covering her ears and forcing her head to face his so she did not see.

One day, Bill had had enough, and he came to stand between his mother and father the next time it happened. His father Bill thought, must have only backed down in surprise, because the next time Bill tried to protect his mother, he took her place.

His mother screamed as his father beat him, kicking him and punching him, backing down only when he seemed to tire. She cradled him afterwards, crying as she held him, and speaking to him harshly.

‘Why did you do that?’ she would say. ‘Why?’

‘I had to protect you mother’ Bill answered back weakly, aching all over. ‘I had to.’

In the corner of the room, Violet cried.

His mother told him not to do it again, but Bill wouldn’t listen, and in the days and years that followed, his father would turn more of his attention onto Bill, and less on his mother.

Bill suffered terribly for it, but he felt happier, because at least now he was protecting his mother. But the day would come, Bill would think in his head, when he would be big enough to hit him back.

Those were the days he feared the most.

It was many years later, when Bill and Violet had grown up a bit more, that their mother vanished.

‘Where is she?!’ Bill screamed at his father.

‘Don’t you speak to me like that’ he father warned him, pointing a finger at him.

‘Where is she?!’ Bill repeated again, banging his fists on the table.

His father rose from his seat, starting towards him. But Bill was ready, with one hand he blocked the fist his father aimed at him, with the other, he struck him back. But he was still young, and only in his teens. His father was able to overpower him easily, and when Bill was on the floor, he didn’t kick him like Bill was used to, instead went over to the stove.

‘No!’ Bill cried, throwing his hands up in submission, seeing what his father was about to do.

But it was no use, his father emptied the kettle over him, and that’s when he screamed.

His sister came rushing in, falling to her knees by Bill.

‘Oh gods…’ her voice was shaking, as were her hands when she touched him. ‘What have you done?’ she shrieked up at her father, holding her brother protectively.

His father didn’t answer, only grabbed her by her upper arm, and dragged her to the bedroom.

Violet called for Bill, and Bill called for Violet. But it was no use. Bill couldn’t help her; he couldn’t even stand now, due to an injury in his leg. Instead he was made to lay where he was, listing to his sister screaming in the next room, and hating himself for not being able to do anything about it.

It was many years after that, when Violet went missing.

At breakfast the next morning after she had failed to return home, Bill crossed the kitchen quietly, preparing his food slowly, but never taking his eyes off his father as he went about his business.

His father, eating his own breakfast leisurely, didn’t look at him.

Bill sat opposite him, eggs and sausages and toast piled on his plate, which he didn’t touch.

‘Where is she?’ he whispered to his father.

His father looked up.

‘What?’

‘Where is she?’ Bill whispered again.

‘Who?’

’My sister’ Bill said through gritted teeth.

‘I think she might have run away’ his father said dismissively, staring back down at his plate and beginning to eat.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘I don’t care’ his father said raising his head again.

Bill’s heart was hammering inside his chest, he did not break his gaze with his father, but stared defiantly back at him, until his father looked down again, and continued to eat.

Bill left the table without touching his food, and wandered through the woods by his home.

It was many years later, when he found something there that shocked him. His sister’s bracelet, one he had gotten her for her birthday, a thing she had cherished, buried within a pile of bones.

He was waiting for his father that evening, standing by the door with a heavy hammer in his shaking hands. And when his father walked through the door, Bill swung as hard as he could at his head.

He fell like a stone. Bill threw away the hammer, stepping over his father and dragging him across the kitchen to one of the chairs where he proceeded to tie him up. But before he finished tying all his limbs, his father came around.

He roared in furry, lunging for Bill who leapt back in shock. Bill then turned instantly towards the hammer he had discarded, making a start for it. But his father was already untying himself from the chair, and Bill had lost his advantage.

Without words or explanation, Bill swung at his father again, this time facing him. His father caught the hammer, and managed to part it from him, striking Bill and sending him reeling. Bill stumbled and fell to his knees, when he felt his father’s fist on the back of his head he collapsed on his front.

His father grabbed him by the hair, putting a knee on his back so he could not get up.

’I HATE YOU!’ Bill snarled back at him through bloodied teeth as his father lifted his head back.

His father didn’t answer as he slammed Bill’s head over and over again against the hard floor.

He eventually after the longest time got off his back, lifting him on his feet and dragging him across the kitchen. Bill fighting to stay conscious could not resist, weak and concussed, he could not fight back as his father grabbed him roughly again by his hair, and plunged his head into a bucket of water.

The icy water suddenly woke him, bringing him crashing back to reality. His father released him, lifting his head out of the water for the briefest moment before forcing him back in. Bill began to panic, reaching desperately to the table beside him and fumbling for anything that could help him. He found a knife, stabbing his father’s hand and managing to free himself.

He threw his head back, drawing a deep breath of air and sparing nothing before lunging for the fallen hammer again.

But his father having recovered faster than Bill had anticipated, grabbed him before he could reach it, and Bill sobbed in despair as he was dragged back, and the hammer moved further away from him.

This time his father did not take him back to the bucket, but to the burning stove. His father grabbed his head again, forcing his head down upon it. Bill screamed, as the heat burned one side of his face.

He stumbled out of the door, not knowing how he had escaped his father, he ran through the village and away from his father’s cursing as he made after him.

Bill fled into the woods, hearing his father following some distance behind him.

He ran for only a short time in a blind panic before he stumbled and fell, landing awkwardly on a fallen tree. The moss on the bark was damp beneath his hands.

He could hear his father somewhere in the woods behind him calling for him, cursing him, swearing to do all sorts of horrible things to him once he caught him.

Bill let out a sob, biting into his hand to keep himself silent. He felt no pain, only adrenaline.

He had nowhere to go, believing he couldn’t survive in this world on his own, and remembering what he had found in the woods of his sister that day.

‘I should have protected her’ Bill whimpered to himself. ‘I should have been able to save her….’

Behind him his father’s voice was coming closer. Bill dared to glance back. He could just see his father’s silhouette in the trees, and he was heading his way.

Bill didn’t run, he only froze, thinking in his mind. He couldn’t leave, and he couldn’t stay.

Maybe I should let him have me he thought. And face the same fate as my mother and sister….and join them both in death…

He heard a twig snapping nearby, and jerked his head around, seeing standing before him a man he didn’t recognise.

‘Hey there kid’ the man frowned down at him. ‘Are you alright?’

And then the man glanced past him, and towards his father as he came tearing through the trees and into the open.

‘I’m going to fucking rip you limb from limb boy!’ he screamed.

Bill rolled on his back to face him, pale with shock and unable to utter a word.

‘Is that your father?’ the stranger asked Bill glumly. ‘He doesn’t seem very nice does he?’

‘Who the fuck are you?!’ the father yelled at the stranger. ‘Leave this place wanderer, you don’t belong here.’

‘Maybe I should teach him a lesson’ the stranger spoke down to Bill, who didn’t answer, but seemed to have slipped into shock.

The stranger hummed thoughtfully to himself, stepping over the fallen tree Bill leant against, and drawing his sword as he did so.

A brief encounter, and his father stepped back, clutching the wounds on his arm and chest where the stranger had slashed him.

‘Leave now old man’ the stranger called to him. ‘Go back where you came from.’

Bill’s father glared at the stranger, holding his injures which bled profusely.

‘You’d better not come home boy’ he growled to his son, before turning on his heel and stalking off.

‘Hey’ the stranger said to Bill once his father had gone. ‘Are you ok?’

Bill stared up at him silently, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

‘You’re safe now’ the man said. ‘My name is William. What’s your name?’

Bill stared at him, and then began to laugh.