Glory (Book 2)
Glory - Book Two
By Michael McManamon
Published by Michael McManamon
Copyright 2013 Michael McManamon
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase and additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Book Two
Day 1
Chapter 1
Emily held her father's hand. They were standing in front of an elevator, waiting to go up. There were two other people beside them. A man and a woman. But Emily wasn't looking at them. She was staring up at her father. She felt such love for him. He was so handsome. She knew that he could take on the whole world.
She had even gotten into a fight with her best friend, Erica, about it earlier. Erica had said tha
t
he
r
father was the best and that simply wasn't true. Though they hadn't hit each other, they had come close enough. After, the two friends hadn't talked to each other for the rest of the day. Emily wasn't sure if she was ever going to talk to Erica again.
Actually, she knew deep down that she probably would. She often got into fights with Erica. That's just what best friends did. They'd talk tomorrow.
Emily continued to look at her father.
"Yo
u
ar
e
the best," she said to him, confirming her own thoughts.
Her father looked down. "What was that, honey?"
"You're the best!" she said again.
Her father smiled. She saw the two other people smile as well and felt a little embarrassed by that.
"Thank you," her father said.
She turned back to look at him. "It's just that Erica said her father was the best and I told her 'no'."
The smiles continued. The man even chuckled. The lady beside him grabbed his arm. "She's so cute," she said.
Emily felt even more embarrassed.
"Well," her father said. "I'm sure that Erica's father is the best t
o
he
r
."
"You're the best to everyone!" Emily countered. "Not just to me."
Emily's father put his hand on her head and ruffled her hair. She hated when he did that. She was too old for such things. But, at the same time, she loved it. It reminded her that she was his little girl.
He eventually pulled his hand away at placed it at his side. It was then that the elevator arrived.
The man and woman walked in first. Emily and her father followed. Her father turned around and pressed one of the buttons. The doors closed.
"It's true," she added. "You're the best."
Emily expected her father to ruffle her hair again, or at least thank her, but he didn't do anything. Instead, he was focused on the numbers of the elevator as they went up
.
A little too much
.
His gaze was intense. He was no longer smiling.
She stared at him a moment longer before she started to worry.
"Daddy, are you okay?"
Her father didn't respond. He continued to look at the numbers. Then he started to growl.
The sound took Emily by surprise. She had never heard such a sound come from her father before. If anything, it was similar to the dogs she came across in the parks. The ones that ran up to her while she was playing on the swings or the slide.
"Daddy," she said once more. "What's wrong?"
He still didn't answer. She tugged on his arm.
Immediately, he turned to look at her, his eyes glaring.
"Daddy?"
Without a word, Emily's father smacked her across the face. Her whole body jerked as she slammed heavily against the elevator wall and fell to the floor.
She didn't scream. She was too shocked for that. Her father had never hit her before. She couldn't even remember him yelling at her.
She looked at the other two people and wondered if they were just as surprised. She thought that maybe the man would stop her father, that the woman would kneel down and ask her if she was okay.
They did neither of these things. They had the same look of intensity in their eyes, which quickly changed to anger. They howled wildly and balled their fists.
At the sight, Emily pushed herself into the corner of the elevator. It was this that attracted her father's attention. His eyes shot her a look of pure hatred
.
Her father. The man she loved so much
!
He stepped toward her and hit her once more across the face.
What could she have done to upset him?
"Daddy!" she pleaded.
Her father didn't listen. He pulled back his hand and hit her again. Her head snapped back and banged against the wall once more.
With that, Emily began to lose consciousness. Everything started to blur. She knew enough that the other people had gotten into the fight. She could see them attacking her father. Attacking each othe
r
.
For the moment, Emily was forgotten.
She curled herself into a ball, pulling her arms over her head. She caught a glimpse of a foot as it nearly stepped onto her. She wasn't sure whose it was. She wasn't sure of anything. All she knew was that her father had hit her, everyone had started to fight.
Then, when she thought that things couldn't get any worse, the lights went out.
Chapter 2
Marianne looked at her mother. Her mother was old. And sick. She was lying in bed.
"Are you feeling better?" Marianne asked.
Her mother didn't answer; though that wasn't a surprise. Her mother usually didn't answer. She just laid there, staring off at nothing. Even when her mother had the skill and dexterity to sit up and watch something on the television, she was often listless.
Marianne smiled, weakly. She knew that her mother was dying. She didn't have much time left to go.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Again, Marianne didn't expect a response. It was simply her habit to ask. She always spoke to her mother as though they were conversing. "How about an orange juice?"
Marianne stood and left her mother alone. She walked to the kitchen. It wasn't far. Just a little way down the hallway.
Her and her mother shared a tiny house. Marianne had taken her mother in when the old woman had gotten too frail to care for herself. During the days, when she was at work, she had to leave her mother alone. But she paid a caretaker to check in on her. It wasn't the best situation for either mother or daughter. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice.
She supposed that she could have shipped her mother off to an old-age home, though that wasn't something that appealed to her. She didn't want to leave her mother alone in her dying years. Plus, they were expensive. And one that she could afford wouldn't be all that good.
It was difficult at times, but it was something that she had to do.
Marianne walked into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and got out the jug of juice. She poured two glasses, then walked back into her mother's bedroom.
"Here you..." She stopped as soon as she saw that her mother was sitting up, looking at her. She put the glasses quickly down on the table and rushed to her mother's side. "Are you okay? Why are you sitting up?"
Marianne didn't expect an answer. She never did. But she didn't expect the gurgling sound, either. She looked at her mother. She could see the old woman's mouth moving.
Marianne moved closer. "What did you say?" She couldn't believe that her mother was talking.
The old woman continued to mumble. Marianne moved her head closer. Her ear almost touched her mother's lips.
Then her mother's arm shot up and wrapped around her.
Marianne was so surprised that she pulled away. Almost as quickly, she got angry at herself. Her mother was obviously trying to communicate with her. Sure, she had gotten used to her just lying there, doing nothing. But that wasn't a reason to pull away.
"I'm sorry," she said, ashamed.
She continued to look at her mother. She could tell that the woman was getting more and more agitated.
Marianne started to worry.
What if her mother was having a heart attack? It had happened before. Twice, actually. Both times Marianne had been lucky enough to be near. Maybe it was happening again.
Except this time didn't look like the other
s
.
She moved back to her mother. The old woman reached out for her once more.
To Marianne, it looked more like she was trying to claw at her.
She must be imagining things.
Marianne shook her head and sat down on the bed. She ran her hand across her mother's leg.
"Mother," she began. "Are you..."
Before she had a chance to finish, her mother attacked. Marianne didn't even have time to react. It came about so fast, was such a surprise. The old woman grabbed at Marianne's shirt and pulled her closer.
Marianne didn't know what was happening. She had the feeling that her mother was trying to hurt her
.
But that was ridiculous! There was no way.
Her mother pulled her closer. Then she began hitting and biting.
Marianne finally screamed and pushed her mother away. The old woman fell weakly across the bed.
Marianne waited a moment to see if she could figure out what was happening. As she did, her mother got back up. Her fingers clutched the bedspread. Her mumbling turned to growling. All of which caused a shiver to run down Marianne's spine.
This isn't a heart attac
k
, she thought. It wasn't anything she had seen before.
Marianne took a step back as her mother made her way to the edge of the bed.
"What are you doing?" she asked, afraid that the old woman would fall out of it and come crashing to the ground. She wanted to rush over to help her. She also didn't want to get attacked again. "What's wrong?"
Her mother continued to growl. Then she started to scream. A high-pitched noise that rattled Marianne even more than she already was.
Marianne wrung her hands together and placed them against her chest. She took a step forward, then back. She didn't know what to do.
When her mother got up out of the bed, Marianne stopped moving all together. She couldn't believe it. Her mother hadn't been able to walk without help for a long time now.
"Mother, you should lie down. You'll hurt..."
Her mother came at her. She moved with a speed the daughter could never have imagined.
Marianne only had enough time to turn and run into the old woman's bathroom. She slammed the door behind her and pressed her back up against it. She could hear her mother beating against the door, trying to get in.
"Mother?" Marianne called out.
More screaming.
"Motttheeeer!"