A Story Of A Female Hunter
Chapter One: Hello, Cassidy Hunter
My life was normal. Actually, my life was pretty fucking fantastic. I was 22 and entering my last year of university, studying to be a doctor. I had a fantastic mum, amazing friends and a twin sister who I love more than everyone in the world. We were practically inseparable. Even when we left school we when to the same university and studied similar courses so we could be in the same lectures. When we went out partying we always went together and if one met a hot guy we would make sure the other got to meet him too. The only thing that stopped my life from being perfect was my father. My mum didn't like talking about him but if we asked she would spill the beans.
"I met him in a bar when I was 24," she said one night when my twin Liberty and I were bored and curious about dad.
"I was working as a bartender and about 3am. The bar was completely empty and I was almost falling asleep but my shift didn't end until 5. All of a sudden a tall, broad shouldered man walked in. He was older than I was and really good-looking. He sat down at the bar and ordered a beer. Since he was the only person in the bar we started talking. His name was Luke and he had just finished work, even though he was dressed in jeans and a checked shirt. We talked and he would occasionally drop a pickup line or two. We talked for over an hour and I said that I would end my shift soon and if he wanted to come home with me. He agreed and well, you can guess what happened," mum's cheeks flush a dark pink. "He stayed at my house because he said that he lived six states away. About three weeks after meeting him I started getting sick. I went to the doctors thinking it was just a virus I had picked up from the pub but when the results came back I almost died. I had to go home and break the news to poor Luke. As soon as he heard the news he started walked out the door. He said he had another job and being in a family was too dangerous. I think he was just making excuses to leave because he didn't like kids but before he left he gave me a shabby book with nothing but strange, scary pictures and kissed me, saying, 'I really do love you, but I don't want you to get hurt. I have to go. Goodbye Bridget Webb.' And that was the last time I ever saw you're father." We asked her if we could look at the book but she wouldn't let us and told us never to mention it ever again. Of course that meant we had to look at it, so one night while mum was working we looked all through the study until we found an old, tatty leather journal with the initials L. H. on it. We took it back to our room to read it but mum came home and we hid it under our beds. We forgot about it until the night that changed my life forever.