Today, I would like to introduce our two leading ladies; Jessie and Gabrielle.
Equilibrium is a book about a book. ‘The Balance’.
Actually, it’s about a sisterhood of Vampires, their leader Gabrielle, her relationship with Jessie and how they go about restoring The Balance by ridding the world of evil.
Some might call it murder – they have other ideas. And gradually, so does the rest of the world.
Through the power of the internet and a boy called Dan, they tell their story and bit by bit (bite by bite) the world starts to believe….
It’s quite simple, they need blood to survive and where better to get it then from people who won’t be missed.
Of course, nothing is ever simple right?? The police have other ideas…….
Equilibrium follows Gabrielle, Jess and the other girls at The Sanctuary as they fight to keep everyone alive and maintain their harmonious existence…..but is it that harmonious?? Jealousy, betrayal and obsession mean that nothing is ever quite what it seems.
Here’s the opening chapter of the book. Say hello to Jess!
The wind screamed and whipped up brittle leaves like corn flakes in a blender, desperately trying to punch holes in the unbreakable glass that separated me from a world I was no longer part of. Murky droplets of rain slid to the bottom of it and fell to a ground I had not walked on for almost three months.
The light afforded by my sole companion, the early evening moon, was minimal, barely outlining my meagre furnishings. I could just make out the silhouette of my rarely used, unyielding bed and the partition which separated the toilet from the rest of my room. There was nothing else to see; save for a long-unused shelf, bearing a single, unopened book.
I pressed my forehead against the pane, fingers of cold creeping over my skin and starting a dull ache in my skull as I stared out into the darkness; but I barely felt it. In my mind I was out there, could smell the night, was part of it. I could hear the whup-whup of wings as an owl hunted to survive against an ominous sky and muffled, far-away screams floated on autumn breezes through the blackness and into my senses, I could feel it – but most of all – I could feel her.
35946JJ, that was me.
Referred to no longer by name, merely a number in a long list of misfits – somewhere between a mother of two who had decided that her abusive husband had beaten her for the last time and a young girl who could only find release with a razor blade. My reason for being here however, set me apart somewhat from the others detainees.
As my mind wandered like a drunk through a maze, taking me to the one place I remained untouchable, I tried to imagine how she was coping, if she was thinking about me. She was my alter ego, my soul mate, the other part of me and I wasn’t coping without her, but she was on the outside, probably continuing our quest and doing it alone.
The bell announcing supper reverberated through my present home: The ICDW – The Institute for Criminally Dangerous Women, aka The Icehouse.
It ricocheted off metal rafters, seeped through the clogged pores of breezeblock walls and resonated in my ears as I felt unfamiliar tears sliding down my cheeks, blurring my normally accustomed night-vision. I soaked them up with the swipe of a sleeve. I was feared in here, respected; I couldn’t afford any displays of weakness. While the others were in awe of me, they left me alone, helping to make my hopefully brief spell of concrete confinement bearable.
The unexpected sound of keys jangling against my door roused me and I shielded watery eyes as it opened and the artificial landing light flooded my cell. I squinted at the slender silhouette leant casually against the frame.
“Miss Jordan?” a sweet, singsong voice enquired.
“Expecting someone else?” I answered abruptly, angry at being caught off guard.
The figure moved through my door and in to the light. I sensed immediately from her elocution and sharp dress that she was no ordinary member of staff.
“What can I do for you?” I asked, unable to keep the curiosity from my question. Since I’d been here, nobody had allowed themselves to get too close to me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, let alone enter my cell. Adding to my surprise, she sat on the bed.
“I wondered if we could have a chat?” She more or less demanded, “I like to get to know all the girls, no matter what they’re in for.” She gave me her eyes as she said this, showing me that she wasn’t intimidated by my crimes.
I smiled and regarded her with interest, meeting her stare. I didn’t speak for a while, but she refused to look away, hazel eyes steadfast in the semi-darkness. Finally, when I realised she wasn’t going to be deterred by my behaviour, I sat down next to her. Remaining resolute, she made no attempt to move, didn’t even appear to be aware of my physical proximity. Somewhat to my annoyance, she had my respect. I relaxed slightly, “This is an unexpected surprise. I haven’t exactly had an influx of visitors,”
“Well, you can hardly blame people for staying away now, can you?” she asked with a smile.
I searched for a hint of patronisation and found none. Shrugging noncommittally and leaning back, I said, “People make their own minds up, I haven’t even been to trial yet. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?” The unoriginality of my question made me inwardly cringe.
She laughed, a warm, genuine sound, like wind charms. Suddenly my cell didn’t feel so cold or lonely. “Jessie? I can call you Jessie can’t I?”
Begrudgingly, I nodded my consent.
“Jessie, you were found over a body, they have matched your DNA at every related crime scene since 2003 and you don’t have an alibi for any of those dates,” she looked at me, “there’s not a lot of room for innocence.”
I saw her point and the fact was, I wasn’t innocent, nor did I care. It was irrelevant; when the time came I would leave. I shrugged, “Ok, you got me there Ms–?”
“— Lisa Carlisle – Resident Doctor of Forensic Psychology” she finished.
I dragged my eyes up to meet hers, “Ah, I see. You’ve come to ‘assess’ me I take it?”
She stood and paced the small floor space, “I thought maybe you’d like to talk about why you brutally murdered seven people,” she said in a hushed, calm tone, stopping to lean on the top bunk, awaiting my answer.
“That you know of…” I reminded her with a smile, a quick flick of my eyebrows and a widening of my eyes for extra effect.
I don’t know why I chose to tell her my story, I suppose I trusted her.
Well, that’s it for today. Feel free to leave a comment, tell your friends, add me on Facebook/Twitter or just read and enjoy. The more hits I get, the more I will post.
Bye for now and just remember, there’s no such thing as vampires….right?