Why must I be cursed, she thinks,
My mother was frozen in the corner of the room like a statue. Acheros was weeping about how he didn't mean it. I held Violence close to my chest. The creature walked towards me, but then my mother gasped. Its head tilted to the side once again, sharp, ragged, and torn ears perking up like a dog's. It turned and walked towards my mother like a predator. I placed Violence down on the ground, and grabbed the fallen shard of glass. I was breathing heavily, so afraid and helpless. My mother was face to face with the creature. It put up long, skinny, sharp fingers, and then rapidly proceeded to wrap them around her throat.
The car stopped at a huge house surrounded by forests. My mother, Violence, and I got out of the car, and followed the thin path up to the house. On the door was a big knocker, which was carved in the shape of a weeping angel. The door itself was intricate and beautiful, with intertwining swirls and patterns. In truth, it reminded me of a church or cathedral. Everything seemed to be judging me, its peering eyes peeking into my soul. I didn't want anyone to see into there. I grabbed onto the back of my mother's dress. She brushed off my hands, and ushered me away.