𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ✔️

Prologue

O L I V I A

I breathed out, my breath showing like puffs of smoke in the cold September air. It was still summer—according to the British calendar, but there was a chill in the air that seemed to intertwine with my mood.

My eighteenth birthday is soon, and my parents couldn't decide which of them would buy me my first house. It's weird; they're acting as if I'm a college student going on tax-payer.

The constant arguments between my divorced parents had worn me down to a stump, and I'd soon cave inwards and collapse into myself. So I grabbed a jacket, slipped into my boots, took my phone and my keys, and left my mums house—heading to the local park.

Originally, when they divorced, one of my parents would keep our original house and one would move out. But my parents couldn't deal with that; they sold the house and both moved out. My dad now lives a twenty-minute bus journey from my mum, who stayed in the same area. I didn't have to change schools; I stayed predominantly with my mother, leaving father-daughter time for the holidays and weekends.

I pulled my jacket tighter around my chest, walking towards a bench in the middle of the local park. I sat down on it and watched as the swings rattled in the wind.

My phone blared in my pocket; another incoming call from one of my parents. I sighed and declined it like I had done the other twenty times.

The argument today had been relentless. They'd been going at it since I got home from college on Friday. Problem is, they each want to be the starring role in my life, but there's two of them and there could only be one. My dad had started saying he would pay for the house since my mother hasn't had a stable job since their marriage ended three years ago. But my mother refused to take his 'charity work', screaming that all he ever did was look down on her. I don't understand why they just can't both put in money for a house.

Tears streamed down my cheeks and I wiped them away with the sleeve of my jacket. I had stupidly picked up the thinnest one. I sighed and slumped back against the back of the bench. My phone buzzed in my pocket, alerting me that I had a text. I wiped away a stray tear before fishing it out of my pocket.

From Dylan.

Your mum has called me a thousand times, the hell are you, Clark?

I smiled and stifled a laugh. My freezing fingers composed a message back.

From Olivia.

She's insane. Hope your mum still has a working ear. I'm out on a walk. Don't worry.

I put my phone down on the side of the bench and shifted around so that I was sitting cross-legged. I was going to be an adult in four months, and all I could do was sit in a children's park and wallow in the pities of life. It sounds like a typical Olivia Clark tragedy.

Neither of my parents had found love again after their divorce. At least, that's what I think. My mum thinks that my dad is off with some A-class supermodel. I told her to stop reading gossip magazines.

I watched the clouds above me inch forward in the wind, which would soon turn into strong gales; I would be caught in it if I didn't move. They covered the moon as if they were sheets of wool, strewn across the light, letting only tiny flickers through.

I pulled my legs up to my chest, resting my chin on my knees and huffing. I watched as a magpie perched on the railings of the children's park. It seemed to be pecking at something, but I couldn't tell what.

Since the divorce, my friends have been one of my main support systems. Not only this, but my friendship group seemed to span out infinitely when my parents divorced. Some would mistake me for the popular, perfect girl because of it. But really, I only had a few close friends who I knew I could trust. The rest were moral supporters, who smiled in the corridors, in the streets, liked my Instagram posts. Those kinds of things.

My phone buzzed again.

From Dylan.

I'm being serious, Clark. Where are you? Before your parents call the police.

I rolled my eyes. Dylan had always been a close friend. I can't remember a time when he wasn't my friend. In primary school, there had been a massive scandal when a rumour broke out that Dylan had a crush on me, but he denied all accusations and told everyone we were just friends. It looked like a celebrity scandal from where I had stood in the playground, watching children circle around him like reporters. People always listened to Dylan, it was a fact. People talked to me, sure, but they didn't hear my words, just saw a friendly opportunity. Dylan had real charisma, the type that's hard to find today.

From Olivia.

You're such a sap. I'm in Parky Park.

'Parky Park' was an endearing joke from when we were about five. I have no idea how it came about—either I couldn't pronounce the real name of the park, or Dylan couldn't, but he denies that he was ever inept.

Dylan and I were only two in our friendship group. There were five of us in total and we have been a close unit since year nine. Our friendship has a great dynamic; although we don't go to the same college, we see each other at least three times a week, since we all live close to each other. I was content within my friendship group. And then I had to go back home.

My phone buzzed yet again as the trees shook behind me as if they were trembling in the wind. The sun had set ages ago, and the streetlights in the park provided dim light.

From Dylan.

Stay right where you are. I'm getting a cab round.

Dylan could be carefree sometimes, and then worrisome the other times. It stressed me out more than it stressed him out. I slipped my phone back into my jacket pocket and rose from the bench, walking towards the park entrance so that I could meet him there. It was a long walk since I had strayed so far from the entrance. When a drop of water hit my forehead and ran down the bridge of my nose, I knew that it was time to go—it was beginning to rain.

I was too busy shielding my face from the rest of the downpour to care about a twig snapping to the side of me. But when it happened again, I turned. I could see nothing for a metre out. I sighed, taking my blurred vision with me as I walked.

Suddenly, a shadow streamed across my vision, looking as if it had leapt out from the side. I peered out from under my hand, trying to understand what the shadow was. It was a person. Then I saw the sharp green eyes and the mess of curls that were matted onto her head.

"Aless–"

A sharp pain struck me in the chest. I fell to the floor and my vision became even more blurred than before.

Confusedly, I recalled the last few moments in my head. I had seen Alessia Trent. And she had stabbed me.

And then it all went black.

________________________________

yes this is my new book
yes I'm excited
yes it's late
yes I lost my first edited copy
yes I had to edit it twice

but yes I'm excited

'Her Life' is coming for y'all

See you on Saturday
(cast list is coming too)

🕊