Chapter 4 - Part 2

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~Ayeonna~

James house was full of neighborhood kids, and kids from his cousins, all dressed up for Halloween, running around the home like they had no training in their teachings what-so-ever.

"Aunt Yonna," Maurice's daughter called me, tugging on the tail of my dress.

I looked down at her big brown eyes that looked so sad, making me want to cry for her.

"What is it, sweetie," I asked her, bending at the waist to her.

"The boys kicked me out of the room in there, and said I couldn't play with them." I rolled my eyes, thinking this had to be little Jessica amongst young Diaz, James, and Maurice.


She pulled me by the hand, pointing into James den, where the boys had been jumping from couch to couch, and recliner to recliner. I straightened her little halo on her head, and placed my hands on my hips.

"Boys," I screamed at them.

"Apologize to Princess!" Suddenly, they all screamed, running in the other direction, through to the kitchen.

I yanked my neck back, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with those kids, and saw a cap spread out behind me in the reflection of the patio door.

As soon as I turned around, I was wrapped up in black cloth, with a hard chest pressing against my body.

Jayden had scooped me up and spun me around, saying, "Come back to the dark world with me," in some weird Transylvanian accent.

"Put me down," I giggled.

He did so, dipping his head into the crook of my neck, letting his fangs brush lightly across my skin, leaving goosebumps behind.

"He's going to eat her," one of the kids cried.

"Let's get him!" He turned away from me, opening his cape, hissing at the children like a cat.

"Run," one of them screamed, having him chase them all into the kitchen.

I stood there with my hands on my hips, just thinking that our son would've been able to enjoy this.

He would've been eight years old by now, most likely dressed as a miniature version of his dad.

The thought always sickened me of how we could never be as happy as we once were, but we would get there eventually.

Truth be told, it wasn't Jayden's fault I lost our son; it was mine. My stress, my body...

"What the hell is going on in my house," I heard Jessica standing on the side of me, watching the children as they ran passed.


"We got him," Devon screamed.

He was truly Maurice's son.


He looked like him, sounded like him, and wasn't as bright as all the other kids. I followed Devon into the kitchen, pulling my friend by her hand, and pointed at Jayden rolling around on her tile floor, while the kids jumped all over him, and playfully hit him with their candy bags.

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