After having lived in a hell for the past six months, Vivian Beauchamp is forced to leave the only place she ever called home. Thinking she will never be truly happy again, she finds that life has an unexpected plan for her. Giving Vivian a life she...
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(This chapter has been edited)
As soon as Vivian had returned home – which was a small, two story house just outside downtown New Orleans, she threw off her drenched, black clothing and stepped underneath the hot spray of the shower. She stood there, hoping all her worries and grieve would be washed away but no success. When she finally exited the shower cabin, her skin was raw and red underneath her natural tan from the heath of the water. She didn't feel any pain though. She just felt numb. The entire weight of the message Hakan had delivered to her hadn't completely settled in yet. Vivian was sure though that it would come around the time she would be leaving the city she had called her home her entire 25 years of life.
She simply took a deep breath looking at herself in the mirror; her curling brown hair framed her face – the color dull and without it's natural glow, her normally bright blue/green eyes were puffy and red from crying, her face was sunken in from stress and her normally full, smooth lips were cranked from biting and sucking the sensitive skin too much. The past couple of months definitely had an effect on her. She was beat. Vivian knew she couldn't handle much more without caving in. Her stoic mask already started to crack after her conversation with Hakan. She huffed and pulled her hair into a messy bun on her head, not caring about the way she looked.
After dressing herself in a simple yoga pants and t-shirt which had holes all over, she started to walk around the house looking for things she wanted to take with her. The family picture that hung on the refrigerator was the first thing she put in her bag. Her mom, her sisters and she had all gone on a family picnic which was tradition. The picture was taken only a couple weeks before her mother passed away. Her heart clenched at the thought of that day. They'd had such a good time; laughing and gossiping like they always would.
The grimoires were next; her grandmother's, her mother's, Monique's, Desiree's and her own. Five thick, leather bound books were packed in their own bag along with herbs and plants she might need for casting spells. Then, she put her clothes, toiletries and undergarment in a suitcase. In her handbag she put her usual stuff along with some food for along the way. She didn't want to wait the full 24 hours. Now that she knew she had to leave, she wanted to leave as soon as possible.
Just as she'd put on a normal set of casual clothes, a knock came from the front door. It sounded urgent and when Vivian didn't open within three seconds, another much louder knock sounded.
"Alright! Alright! I'm coming!" she called out before pulling open the door with such force it almost flew from its hinges. She wasn't surprised seeing her uncle Lucien Montagne standing on her small porch with a worried look cast over his entire face.
"Oh, my god little one. Look at you", he said as if he hadn't seen her in ages while in reality it had only been hours before. He'd been standing next to her during her sister's ceremony, trying to be there for her when she needed it. But once he noticed how closed off she was, Lucien knew it was better to leave her alone for a bit. He stepped inside, his muscular tan body swinging his hips as he made his way through. Yes, Lucien was a weird one but he was like an uncle to her. He was a big mouthed southern gal born in the wrong body. He had changed his black suit which he had worn at the ceremony earlier today for a thigh hugging jeans, black sneakers and tiger print blouse with one (or two) too many buttons loose. He wore light highlighter on his face, lip-gloss and fake lashes. He looked like somebody who was way too much to handle.
