Valley Of Glamorgan

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed
in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely
coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission
from the publishers.

This book is sold subject to the condition
that it shall not, by the way of trade or otherwise, be lent,
re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s
prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in
which it is published and without a similar condition including
this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Julie Eads asserts the moral right to be
identified as the author of this work

Copyright © Julie Eads 2013

ISBN 978-1497505582

Publisher: Julie Eads

Front Page Image: © Njron Photography

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my family who has
always supported me. They pushed me to write every day.

Also a special thanks to my dear friend Ann
Brady; who has spent endless hours editing the book and giving me
much appreciated advice.

This book wouldn’t be possible without any of
you!

Every day I wake up, content with being
me

But my constituents digress like there's
something that they see

Maybe I'm a bit different

Abnormal, a bit weird

But as I stare in the mirror, normalcy is
what appears

For years, I've been locked inside my own
cage

My brain waves scatter at the thought of the
slightest change

Anger and rage is something I can diffuse
and contain

But there's a fire brewing like my DNA is
fused with propane and it’s been lit like a stove range

My attitude needs adjusting

Change seems disgusting

But I'll embrace it, face it

And won't ever stop loving life for
nothing

I sit home alone, scribble out a dumb
poem

Look through others eyes; analyze their
lives like know em

I'm the story teller

Notes scattered over my dresser

That's why this isn't a song, it’s more like
a lecture

So sit down class, I am now your
professor

I will enjoy changing

Till my face weathers under the pressure

I’ll leave a legacy behind.

Never settle for bare minimum

Every negative thought disappears

Cause every day I’ll get rid of em

The Alpha, the omega put me on earth for a
reason

So I will reach every goal till my checklist
reaches the ceiling

Staying plain I should be counted as a
self-treason

So next time I stare in the mirror, the
mirror will reflect what everyone else is seeing

Electrons fire, Goosebumps

I perspire

Suddenly I see change is something that I
desire

Fire in my heart, crawling out if the
dark

Change is in my range

And I can't seem to wait to start

My drive will never park, not neutral

Or reverse

On a million mile journey, with each and
every verse

Every memory, friend or family that mentions
me

Won't disagree that I evolved for greater
and never worse

I disperse words, adjective, nouns and
verbs

And from now since birth, I'm breaking my
normal curse

So I'm different

Unusual, unique and beautiful

Because I am me,

Eccentric and in oblique

Colorful, happy and a child at heart

Imagination runs wild, no longer lost in the
dark

- By Zack Eads

Chapter 1

I fought the urge to scream; quickly
clamping my icy, cold hand against my frozen lips. The van had been
parked with the engine off for at least an hour. We were hoping to
conserve the battery for when we got out of here. That was, if we
ever got out of here! Obviously, without the engine running, the
heater had been rendered useless. With all the technology there was
these days you would think they could have come up with a way to
fix that. My thoughts were jumbled as I searched for the most
useless information I could think of; hoping to keep my mind
occupied.

I tried my hardest to keep my eyes away from
the strange form that had leapt out in front of my mother’s grey
minivan, wondering if what I was seeing was even possible.
Searching my mind for rational explanations I questioned if maybe
my contact lenses were messing with my eyes. Although, I knew they
weren’t as I looked towards my parents, seeing the horrified
expressions that lay across their time-stricken features. I could
tell that there indeed was an abnormally tall man who was standing
about two feet from where my father had slammed his brakes on. He
was just standing there, staring at my parents, and me.

I wanted to scream and tell my dad to just
push his foot down on the damn gas pedal! If the man had any sense
in him, he would jump out of the way. Although something unsettling
in my stomach told me that he wouldn’t let us leave, even if we
tried. He had a look of determination spread across his exotic
features, making me wonder if we were going to live through this
night. Swallowing the lump of tears that were building I took a
deep breath. If I was going to die tonight then I wasn’t going to
die a coward; I would do whatever I could to save my parents. I
knew they would do the same for me; I just hoped that I would make
them proud. If we did have to die tonight by the hands of this
strange man then I decided that I wouldn’t want to die next to
anyone else in this world, other than my loving, adoring parents,
who had given me life. Looking from my mother’s wrinkled features
to my father’s hardened expression; I wanted to hug them both
tightly. I hoped for the chance to tell them thank you for
everything they had done for me. If we didn’t die or freeze to
death, I knew that I would have a new appreciation for them.

It felt as if hours had gone by, when it had
truly only been a few minutes. Suddenly the man started to approach
the van. My father unbuckled his seat belt, which to my surprise he
still had on. As he reached for the door handle I jumped with all
my might and lunged onto his back. Then I started pulling his hand
away from the door.

“No dad! I exclaimed. “You can’t go out
there!”

My father turned to me and with a stern
emotionless expression he told me to sit back and to stay, as if I
was nothing more than the family pet. I was shocked; my father had
never spoken to me that way before. Although I felt hurt, I did as
he told me sitting back against the cold leather seat, which at
this point felt as if it had turned to ice. As I tried to fight the
chattering of my teeth, I looked towards my mother, surprised at
how calmly she watched as my father walked towards the man. It felt
as if I was in an episode of the twilight zone. My parents had
suddenly become people I didn’t recognize. Maybe the man had put a
spell on them or something? I questioned what was happening shaking
my head and chuckling to myself. What an idiot, leave it to me to
take a moment like this to tune into a Sci-fi channel special.

Staring wide-eyed out of the window I
watched helplessly as my father finally reached the path where the
man stood. They were both talking in hushed tones. Suddenly the man
looked towards me, pointing his finger directly my way. My father
turned and looked at me then back at the man. He shook his head
and, it might have been the hypothermia setting in, but I saw my
father laugh! It wasn’t the gut wrenching laugh that he used when
someone made a joke. No, it was a sinister laugh! If I hadn’t heard
it with my own ears I would never have guessed that the sound had
come from him.

I thought to myself, ‘Great, he has gone
delusional!’ Then, the most unexpected thing happened. My father
grabbed the man by the arm and knocked him to the ground. He used
such surprising force that I was astounded. My father was a thin,
short man, maybe 5’9” at the most, and this man towered over him by
at least a good five inches. Yet somehow, my father had knocked him
to the ground and had thrown him so hard that he was now several
feet from where they had been standing. The impact was so forceful
that the man was still grounded.

I looked towards my mother and when I
couldn’t hold my tongue any longer, I screamed “What the hell just
happened?”

She turned with a smile on her face, telling
me that everything was alright and that they would explain
everything, once the man was disposed of. As she said that, she
pointed her index finger at the man and chuckled. In that moment I
didn’t know who to fear more. The people who had raised me my whole
life, or the man who had jumped out in front of our van in the
middle of the night.

Looking back at my parent’s reactions and
seeing that they hadn’t been as surprised as I was I begun to
assume that his actions were premeditated. How could they have
expected a strange man to appear out of nowhere in the dead of
night? But, before I could speculate what was going on my thoughts
were pulled from me as the man stood up and walked towards my
father. I held my breath, anticipating his next move.

He was screaming loudly; I could hear him
clearly. His voice echoed off the barren trees and endless road as
he roared, “You need to tell her the truth!”

My father stood silent for a moment, and
then when he finally spoke, he yelled back, “I have no clue what
you’re talking about. I suggest you leave us alone.”

My head started to spin; what was happening
to me? Just yesterday I was playing scrabble with my parents at our
kitchen table. I remembered distinctly making fun of my father
because he was always trying to get away with using random letters,
and claiming that they were words. Those same people were right
before me and I felt as if I knew the man standing in the road
better than my own parents.

The man spoke again, “Jack, you have to tell
her the truth, or I will.” He was projecting his voice which sliced
through the frigid night air like a knife through butter. It sent
unwelcomed chills through my body. He sounded as if he could have
been a radio host, or one of those men who do advertisements for
upcoming movie premieres. I slapped myself! ‘Snap out of it Mina,’
I told myself, ‘this is really happening.’

Then my thoughts were cut off as I heard my
father say, “You will not take her Knoll. I won’t allow it.”

At that point my mother got out of the car
and was by my father’s side in moments. The man looked at her in
disgust, and then in a condescending voice he said “I am happy you
decided to join us Stephanie.” She just stared at him with a look
of dismay, before she rolled her eyes.

That is when I made my mind up, I had had
enough. Getting out of the car I ignored my parents’ commands to go
back. Standing next to my mother I exclaimed, “Well, now that you
have all had your reunion, will somebody please tell me what the
hell is going on?” I didn’t care much for cursing, but honestly it
seemed like the only thing I could say that would fit the
situation.

The man sniggered; I mean he actually
laughed. Surprised, I found I couldn’t help, through all the
confusion I was experiencing, to stop a small smile of my own from
breaking free. The man stepped forward. “Hello Mina. I offer my
apologies for all the inconvenience and trouble I have caused
tonight. I am Knoll,” and he reached his large hand out for me to
shake it.

I thought, ‘What the hell, this night
couldn’t get any weirder,’ so I shook his hand. This apparently
made my parents angry. They both looked at me and growled! I mean,
they actually growled; like my dog Banksey does when someone tries
to take his bone away. Involuntarily I took a step away from my
parents. Suddenly I didn’t feel any safer standing beside them,
than by the man who had just introduced himself as Knoll. I would
address the strangeness of his name later, along with his thick
Irish accent. It seemed as if he was a long way from home. Oddly
enough his wardrobe had caught my eye as he had a short sleeve,
black t-shirt on; the kind with pockets on the front but as far as
I could see the pocket was empty. He also wore a pair of tan cargo
jeans. Although he was standing in a snow littered road, it was
well below freezing outside, yet not once did he act as if the cold
fazed him.