Fallen (Fallen Series Book 1)

by Micalea Smeltzer

  Copyright 2011 Micalea Smeltzer

  Dedication

  To Conner for keeping my book a secret…

  THE HEART NEVER LIES

  Some people laugh, some people cry

  Some people live, some people die

  Some people run, right into the fire

  Some people hide their every desire

  But we are the lovers

  If you don't believe me

  Then just look into my eyes

  'cause the heart never lies

  Some people fight, some people fall

  Others pretend they don't care at all

  If you wanna fight I'll stand right beside you

  The day that you fall I'll be right behind you

  To pick up the pieces

  If you don't believe me

  Just look into my eyes

  'cause the heart never lies

  -Mcfly

  Prologue

  The dark room surrounded me. Water dripped nearby. I began to shake. It was so cold and I was so terribly scared. How much more could I go through?

  How much I wished I knew where I was. Some sign of life. A car horn. A voice. Anything would be better than this silence and her voice, her laugh.

  The smells were awful. The smell of blood, of lost life. Of mold and rotten wood.

  Bugs scuttled by me. Wherever I was it was an old building. Maybe a house? A shed?

  I replayed the last months in my head. Every touch, every kiss, so treasured now. How I wished to see his face one last time before she killed me. But I can’t escape her.

  I wished so much now that we hadn’t fought. That my once knight in shining armor would come save me. But he wasn’t and I was going to die here. Never seeing him again. I held onto to those precious memories. They’d keep me strong if nothing else did.

  I could hear her coming.

  This is the end, I thought.

  Chapter One: Moving

  I find it funny how forever doesn’t really mean forever.

  When you’re young your parents always tell you that they’re going to be together forever. But somehow they always seem to leave out the part about how forever doesn’t last. I thought my parent’s marriage was perfect. Well, maybe not perfect. But good.

  Apparently, I was wrong. Very, wrong.

  My whole life has been torn apart simply because my dad met someone else. How is that fair?

  My mom and I are moving to Rome. My mom’s part Italian although she’s never been there. She calls it a new start.

  I call it crap.

  She just wants to be away from my dad. I do too but a whole new country seems a bit drastic to me. But I have to admit Rome does seem to have some kind of pull over me.

  A shudder runs through my body but I refuse to shed a tear. I will not let my dad make me cry. He’s not worth it.

  I sat down on my floor and started packing the final box of my stuff. My childhood room is completely bare and it scares me. We’ve lived in this house since I was born. I grew up here and thought I would never have to leave. Never have to leave this house and never have to leave California. But I was wrong. Just like I was wrong about so many other things.

  I felt like I was no longer in control of my own destiny and that scared me more than anything.

  I folded the flaps over the box and stuck the tape on.

  “Goodbye life,” I sighed to myself.

  I picked up the box and carried it downstairs and put it with the many other boxes that held the precious moments of my ruined life.

  I looked around trying desperately to memorize everything about my childhood home before I had to leave. The old worn wood floors, the crack in the ceiling, the lines marking mine and my brothers’ growth over the years, the couch I threw up on when I was eight. Every part of this house holds a memory. Some good. Some bad. But now that my parents are getting a divorce every memory is tinged with blackness.

  “Kylie, what are you looking at?” asked my mom sitting down a box and blowing her bangs out of her face.

  “Nothing,” I said averting my eyes away from the nail polish stain on the coffee table.

  “I have a couple more boxes to pack so while I’m doing that can you put these in the car?”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” I said picking up one of the boxes.

  “Thanks,” she said turning around and going upstairs. I saw her tuck some stray pieces of her dark brown bob behind her ear. She used to have long hair but with the divorce came a whole new hairstyle and look. She was different and honestly I was too. Different could be good or it could be bad. I guess we would just have to wait to find out which it would be.

  I stacked two boxes on top of each other and carried them out to the car. The trunk of my mom’s Range Rover was already open and I squeezed the boxes into the only empty space I could find.

  I was starting to break out in a sweat with all this heavy lifting. I headed back inside and found three more boxes added to the ever increasing pile. I sighed and picked up a couple more.

  “Mom!” I yelled up the steps.

  “Yeah?” she asked appearing at the top of the steps, her normally happy smile gone, replaced by a grim line.

  “Are you sure that this is all going to fit in the car?”

  “I certainly hope so,” she said heading back to the master bedroom. Oh, well.

  I pushed the door open with my arm to go back outside just as the bottom on the box I was holding collapsed.

  “Shit,” I said looking down at the broken glass. “Oh, shit,” I added seeing what had been broken.

  My mom and dad’s wedding china. She was going to kill me.

  Right on queue she came down the steps.

  “Kylie, why are you just standing there? Oh-,” she said seeing the pile of broken glass.

  “I’m so sorry, mom. I didn’t mean to. The box just gave out.”

  Taking a deep breath and running her fingers through her bangs she said, “It doesn’t matter. I should have thrown that stuff away anyway. I guess this is my punishment,” I could tell she was fighting tears.

  I put the now empty box down and said, “I’ll clean it up.” I headed toward the kitchen to get the dust pan. Guilt was an ache in the pit of my stomach.

  When I got back she already had the large pieces picked up and thrown into the trashcan.

  “Here,” I said bending down.

  “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll do it. Just keeping putting boxes in the car. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

  I handed her the dust pan and went to collect some of the remaining boxes.

  Honestly, I wanted out of here as quickly as she did. My dad and his new girlfriend, the reason for the divorce, Kelly would be here soon. Kelly would be moving in. This would be her house now. This wasn’t my house anymore. The walls suddenly didn’t feel so welcoming.

  As my mom scraped up the remaining bits of glass I studied her.

  For being forty-five she still looked good but different since the divorce. She had lost her peppy outlook on life and it could be shown in her face. Her normally sparkling blue eyes used to look young but now there were bags under her eyes and instead of sparkling with happiness they now glimmered with tears. Her full lips always used to be turned upward in a smile but now that smile was a grimace. Her dark brown hair was styled in a sleek bob, it used to be long, and it had lost its chestnut shine. She had on very little makeup which was normal for her but now she hardly put on mascara. Her thin body reminded me of a dancer but she had muscle in her arms and legs from frequent runs. Runs that didn’t happen anymore. She was short, only five two, meaning that at my height of five eight I towered up over her.

  My vibr
ant mother was gone and instead replaced by this stranger. She looked weak, a depressing thought, since I’ve always thought my mom to be a force of nature, never tiring, and never letting anything bother her. But the divorce took her by surprise like it did me and she hasn’t been the same since.

  I felt like we were both becoming completely new people. We had always been close but recently I had felt us drifting apart. Nothing was going to be the same. Especially after moving to a whole new country. Not even that. A whole new continent.

  It would be weird living somewhere new when the only place I knew was this. Even weirder would be the language barrier. I wouldn’t have any friends. Just my mom. God, help me, I prayed.

  I finally got the last box in the car and shouted to my mom that I was done.

  I went into the bathroom and stared at myself. Maybe I was like my mom. Maybe I had lost my spark. If I had I hadn’t noticed. I thought I was still me underneath. Just a little sad. But maybe I was wrong.

  This is you Kylie, I thought, no one and nothing can change who you are. Even in Rome you will still be you, I thought to myself.

  I studied my reflection in the mirror.

  I look more like my mom than my dad. I have her lips only mine are only slightly plump, dark brown hair which I wear long, olive skin. Unfortunately I didn’t inherit her lithe body. I had definite curves. I had a big chest unlike my mother’s flat chest, and my hips flared out. How many times had I stared longingly at the clothes that she could wear so beautifully but made me look insignificant? The only two things I seemed to inherit from my dad were his green eyes and wavy hair.

  “Even in Rome this is what I will look like. I will still be me,” I chanted to myself.

  I heard my mom coming down the steps so I left the bathroom.

  “Ready?” she asked her purse already on her shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I said even though I wasn’t sure.

  She went out and got in the car.

  I looked around the house one more time. As I was closing the door behind me I said, “Goodbye, house.” Just like I always did when I was little.

  My mom tapped her watch indicating that we needed to go now.

  I climbed in the car and risked one last glance at my childhood home. We turned down the street and it was gone from my sight. I didn’t know if I would ever see it again.

  The airport wasn’t super busy but busy enough. We went through all the security and got our bags checked. Our other stuff, like the car, would be coming later. We grabbed a pair of seats at our gates and waited to board. I was exhausted and hoped I would be able to sleep on the plane. It would be a long flight.

  About an hour later it was ready to board.

  I stretched my stiff limbs and showed the flight attendant my ticket. She waved me through. I grabbed a window seat and my mom slid in next to me.

  The plane took off and I stuck my earphones in my ears hoping the music would lull me to sleep. It worked.

  I promptly fell asleep and slept off and on the whole ride. I had the strangest most vivid dream.

  The guy that was standing before me was beautiful. Too beautiful. His silver gray eyes bore into mine. His shaggy blond hair fell messily in his face. He smiled at me and I thought I’d melt. His eyes looked down and I glanced down to see what he was looking at. Sticking out of my chest was a white cord. The white cord was beautiful. It was wispy, almost like a mist, it swirled between us. I wanted to reach out and touch it to see if it was real but I didn’t. Somehow I felt that if I touched the strange cord it would disappear. I followed the white cord with my eyes and saw that it was connecting my heart to the beautiful boy’s heart. “Finally,” he said smiling.

  I woke up suddenly, jostled by the decent of the plane, and instantly forgot the dream. We landed and got off the plane.

  I gathered my luggage and waited for my mom, still thinking about the guy in my dream. Wishing he could be real. I saw her huffing and puffing as she struggled with her bags, unusual since she was so in shape. I let out a quiet giggle. Hiding my face from her sight so she wouldn’t know I was laughing at her. I composed myself instantly.

  “I’m ready.” She said regaining her breath. I tried not to laugh at her expression. It was difficult.

  A string of cabs were waiting for people and I picked on at random.

  The guy that climbed out was probably in his fifties with tan skin and black hair. He smiled kindly at us and loaded the luggage that we had into the trunk of the car.

  “Thank you so much,” I said. He nodded and continued smiling and if I wasn’t mistaken he kept checking out my mom. Gross.

  My mom and I climbed in the back.

  The car was warm. And smelled like mint. My mom leaned her head back against the headrest and zoned out. I couldn’t blame her. I really wanted to zone out myself.

  “So are you visiting Rome?” The driver asked. An innocent enough question. But my face became grim.

  “No.” I said curtly. “Moving here.” He nodded his head as he realized I did not want to discuss this.

  “Where do I need to take you girls?”

  “I’m not sure. Mom do you have the directions?” She didn’t move so I nudged her ever so slightly. She was startled and I had to repeat my question.

  “Here,” She said handing the cabbie a folded piece of paper that was worn from being handled so much. He looked at it carefully.

  “That’s a nice area. You’ll like it. The houses are a nice size. Well accept for the Pulmer house it’s enormous. But that house has been here for nearly a thousand years. You’ll see it as we get closer it sits up on a hill and over looks most of the grand city of Rome.”

  “Amazing,” I muttered under my breath. “A thousand year old house.” The driver looked at me in his rearview mirror but decided not to say anything.

  I felt bad since he was just trying to be nice but I couldn’t help it. Once we landed it finally hit me that this was my home now. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be my home.

  He drove around the windy streets and through narrow alleys where people had to stand in doorways to get out of the way. He got on a highway and drove a short distance away from the city.

  The driver came to a stop on the busy highway street. He put his left blinker on. I looked and I could see houses most with ivy covering them. Finally we were able to turn. When we got on this road he had to make a sharp right, throwing me into my mom. “Sorry,” I muttered to my mom. She didn’t stir. As we came around the corner there was a brief moment when the road was straight. But he made a small right and went down a steep dirt hill.

  That’s when I saw him.

  Standing in front of a massive house. What must be the Pulmer house based on the location and the size. The boy was about my age probably seventeen and looked like a Roman god. His golden colored hair blew in the wind. His skin was so pale to be almost translucent. But he was the most gorgeous person I had ever seen. He would make every male model and even the female ones green with envy as they realized they could never be that beautiful.

  But what shocked me the most was not his beauty but his familiarity. But how could I know him?

  He was sitting on the hood of a black car that looked American. But then we went by the house and he was out of my sight so I couldn’t be sure.

  The driver put his left blinker on and went down another hill. As we went down the hill we made a half circle. He pulled into the driveway of a beautiful white house. Ivy was growing up the entire right side of the house. It gave the place character. I got out of the car looking behind me I could still see the Pulmer house and the guy sitting on his car. I turned back around so I could help the driver get our bags. He already had most of the luggage at the door. So I went to get the key instead. I looked around and didn’t see my mom. So I checked the car and sure enough she was still sitting there staring out the window. At nothing. It was like she was catatonic.

  I opened her door and shook her. “Mom we’re here I need the key.” She didn’t move.
I shook her harder. “Mom?”

  “What?” She asked not looking at me.

  “I need the key.”

  “Oh. Here,” she shuffled around in her purse producing a very unique key. But I did not take time to admire it. As I turned around I felt eyes watching me so I looked up. The god-like boy was looking at me with intense scrutiny. He moved his gaze back to the car when he realized I was looking at him. I went to the door and unlocked it trying to erase the strange sensation I was feeling.

  “Do you want me to carry these in for you two?”

  “No thanks I can get them. But thanks for bringing them this far,” I said kindly trying to make up for my behavior in the car earlier.

  “You’re welcome and you and your mom enjoy Rome. You’ll love it here once you get settled.”

  “Okay.” I said trying to give him a smile as I paid and tipped him.

  I turned and my mom still hadn’t moved from the car. So I pulled her out and away from the cab so he could back out. My mom just sat on the dirt driveway and said nothing. So I began to take the bags inside. I was on my way to get the third and final load of luggage when I saw someone standing over my mom.

  “Excuse me, but what are you doing?” I asked the stranger. He turned to look at me. It was him. The guy that must live at the Pulmer house.

  “Excuse me if I’m being rude. But I was watching from my house up on the hill,” he said pointing to the massive stone structure. “And your mom looks like she could use some help.”

  “Okay.” I said dumbfounded by his kindness.

  “Is she depressed?” He asked with a soothing velvety voice.

  “I don’t know, maybe. She and my dad just got divorced and now we’ve moved here.”

  “I see.” He nodded his head. For a brief moment I felt like he cared. He looked down at me through thick eye lashes that made my heart skip a couple of beats. His silver eyes were piercing and I found myself drowning in them.

  “Why don’t you go get a glass of water and a bed fixed for your mom?”

  “Alright,” I said picking up another bag and carrying it inside with me. I would do anything that beautiful boy asked of me. I found myself wanting to please him.