TITLE: Waking Up
GENRE: Urban Fantasy
In movies, murder is a savage act--something that severs the killer from humanity, something dreadful and dark that corrupts her soul and festers in her mind. Murderers are the bad guys. It's necessary propaganda, because kids these days aren't really taught right and wrong anymore. But most of the screenwriters have never killed anyone, so they can't possibly understand.
Murder can bring peace; it can be the best catharsis and the only salve to ease an aching heart. God and heaven may exist. There may even be avenging angels. I can't speak to all that because I don't know anything about them. I do know that I sure as hell won't wait for an angel. I do my avenging myself.
EIGHTEEN YEARS IN THE PAST ON EARTH
Matilda woke with a start and slid her sock clad feet out of bed, padding as quickly as her seven-year old legs could manage across the floor. The hinges on Jesse's door creaked as she pushed it open. The noise woke him and Matilda shot over to his racecar bed, hopped up onto it and crawled over next to him.
He rubbed his bleary, bright blue eyes and asked, "Tildy, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but I had a dream. I thought you'd wanna hear it."
"Really?" Jesse pushed himself up and ran a small hand through his straight, dark chocolate hair, which stood almost on end. "You've never had a dream--any dream. Of course I wanna know what it was."