Candice's P.O.V
The room was completely black. It was as if there was a thick blanket covering my eyes. He was coming closer and all that I could do was pray. I prayed harder than I ever had in my entire life. Now of course I prayed before every meal and every night before bed, but I had never prayed with so much desperation before. I never had the need to. "Oh God, please. NO!"
I jolted forward, with the last word bouncing off of my tongue in a shout before I slapped a hand over my mouth. My eyes shot open, a waterfall of tears running over my cheekbones. "Hey, Candice it's alright. It was only a nightmare", soothed my dearest brother Trent. I had calmed down within seconds of my outburst, and gathered my surroundings. I was sitting in a dark blue leather chair identical to many around me, each one held a person. They were staring, great. I had a nightmare on an airplane.
The thing about Trent is, he isn't really my brother, but he might as well be. His mother, Seraphine, decided to take my younger sister, Raquel and I in a little over five years ago after we lost our parents. Seraphine was a gorgeous black woman with deep brown eyes. She also appeared to never age, so it wouldn't surprise anyone that she's an actress/model. She originally had only two children, Trent and her younger daughter, Kathryn, who was three years Trent's junior. Kathryn was also my half-sister, thanks to my male parent. She also happened to be the same age as Raquel, who is 15. It's not every day a man's "baby's mama" wants to take care of his kids. Can you say drama?
We're all from Los Angeles, California but due to many complications with our dysfunctional "family" we had to move to Miami, Florida. Miami was okay and it wasn't too different from LA. We still had beaches, the sun, and its burning heat. I began to like it there after about a year, but Seraphine had gotten bored with the sun and the beaches. At least that's what I assume because right now we were on a plane to Baltimore, Maryland, which is two hours from the suburbs of Woodcrest, Maryland. You could only imagine my distaste for this sudden migration north. Seraphine was born and raised here and her mother was very close friends with an old man by the name of Ed Wuncler, who owned the whole city, so she didn't even have to make a deposit on the house that we had there. I had one huge problem with Woodcrest; it was nothing like LA or Miami.
We had finally landed, and I was immediately filled with both relief and dread. Four hours was a long time to be sitting in a chair, so when I was able to stand and walk around, I was in fact relieved. Then I realized we had a two hour drive to Woodcrest, and I cursed Seraphine's name for doing this to us. When we arrived at the house it was around ten o'clock and I didn't care about anything, but sleep. The movers had already moved all of our furniture into the house, so all we had to do was unpack our clothes. I thanked God that tomorrow was Sunday as I begrudgingly found my way to what would be my bedroom. I yanked off my boots and did the same with my jeans and my sweatshirt, leaving me in my underwear and a t-shirt. I flopped down onto my bed and moved about until I was nestled in the comfort of my blankets. I lay in bed staring off into the darkness of the four walls that I now called mine, mentally preparing myself for Woodcrest. I had a feeling about this place, but I was indecisive on whether or not it was good or bad. I decided to wait until I wasn't drifting in and out of consciousness to figure it out.