Prologue

Cat can remember that night. Sometimes when it's dark and quiet she can still hear the empty wail of the sirens or the thump of their bodies against the floor as they slumped unconsciously to their deaths.

She can still see the empty hollow eyes of her mother, the twitching of her brother's body.

She can still even feel the raw, stinging marks under her eyes from the tears. She can feel the acid in her throat as she coughed up the bile and blood from screaming and crying.

That was another thing. The screaming. Probably the worst part of the night.

Her family hadn't screamed, but went quietly, almost peacefully despite the shuddering of the bodies and the choking, retching noises. They were the lucky ones.

Cat was the one who was screaming. She needed to scream. She had to. She screamed and screamed until she could barely breath, hoping to die from lack of oxygen to her brain. She welcomed death with open arms. She needed death.

It would have been a comfort, a luxury. But Cat wasn't lucky enough to die. She wasn't smart enough to die with them. Probably her biggest regret was narrowly escaping death. Her mom, her dad, her brother. All of them wiser, all of them luckier, had died leaving Cat to face the worst pain of all.

The pain of being alone.

It had been a murder attempt on the Valentine family. A long lost uncle, she remembered. One that she'd never met. He wanted the entire family to die, so he'd have all of the money Cat's family had. He was in a mental facility prison now…

But he had done what he meant to do. He killed them. Cat's mommy, her daddy and her brother were gone. All gone. And it was all thanks to him. But he didn't get the money. he had left one heir to the fortune besides himself…And even though she wished she was dead, she wasn't.

She wished, again, that she had gone too. Why didn't she consume enough of the poison to die right there? Why did she have to suffer longer and harder than all of them?

She was a good girl. Did she deserve this?

The night's memories flooded again into her mind. She had just come home from Hollywood Arts for Holiday Vacation…

"Welcome home, Kitty Cat," Mrs. Valentine's warm brown eyes twinkled as Cat came into the spacious dining room. Her brother was sitting at the table with his mother.

"Hi guys," Cat trilled. "Where's Daddy?"

"The doorbell rang," answered Mrs. Valentine. "Come and sit. He'll be in here in a moment."

Cat sat and her brother engaged her in a conversation that Cat would surely recall to her best friends. She loved her brother more than anything in the world. He was her life, funny and smart and goofy, edging on eccentric.

Then her father had come in, still in his work clothes with a beautiful basket, filled with pretty shimmery paper. The basket that had caused Cat her family.

"Was that the delivery man?" Cat's mother asked.

"Sure was," said Mr. Valentine. "This is apparently from an admirer."

"What is it, Daddy?" Cat asked.

"Let's see, Cat," her dad said, coming over and touching her shoulder gently. The last time he would ever touch her.

He peeled back the paper, showcasing a singular bottle marked "Finest Sparkling Cider".

"Sounds delightful," remarked Mr. Valentine, removing four champagne glasses from the cupboard. "I wonder who it's from."

"Let's drink it, and then decide if it's worth the effort of tracking down the admirer," suggested Cat's brother.

"Always thinking ahead," Cat's mother smiled affectionately at her only son. "I agree."

Mr. Valentine poured four fizzing glasses and handed them around.

"Cheers."

Everybody brought the glasses to their lips and drank except for Cat. The liquid just barely touched her lips when she put the glass down to tell her father about what had happened in school today.

"Daddy, do you remember the other day when my friend was over? The one with the puppet?"

Mr. Valentine put his cup down, and opened his mouth. Cat expected him to respond to her sentence, but instead a rasping gasp was all that left his mouth.

"Are you alright?" Cat asked, looking over at her mother for explaination. But her mom's eyes were wide and bulging as she gurgled into her drink. The glass in her hand crashed to the floor, breaking into a million pieces and Cat leapt off her feet.

"What are you guys doing?" She asked, glancing over at her brother. He was on the floor, his body convulsing mightily. "What's going on?" Cat asked, tears glittering in her eyes. "Mommy, daddy…"

The screaming had started when their bodies stopped moving, lifelessly still and unmoving.

That had been the night that altered her life forever.

A neighbor had heard the screaming and called the police, who had come and taken Cat away.

She went to a hospital, screaming the entire time until finally she was seduced with a shot. Almost quite like death, but she'd eventually wake up and have even stronger pain. Death without the everlasting relief.

She had thirty days. Thirty days to live, she was told. The poison had entered her blood stream, but just barely. She would die a slow and painful days.

Thirty days…

Just thirty. Thirty days to finish her life. Thirty days to ensure she wouldn't have any regrets.

What would you do with thirty days?

Worth continuing? Leave a review and let me know. The amount I get will decide whether or not I continue. 143