LUSTING FIRES

[ ] CORALINE WAYFIELD I was only twelve when I saw the body of my Father, hanging there from the ceiling. Limp, cold with nothing behind his eyes. There was no colour, not like how it used to look. He was pale then, his eyes seem to have lost colour too. Maybe that was just me seeing things though. You could imagine the fear that coursed through my body. I didn't cry. I never cry, not even when I saw him dangling there like a new chandelier. It took a moment for my twelve year old brain to process what the f**k I saw. "Mom." I whispered at first. Before getting louder. "Mom.." And louder. "Mom!" Although by the time I shouted for her, the word Mom morphed itself into a scream as it left my lips. It didn't take long for her to come running in. She screams bloody murder. For too long. Before finally yelling at me to get help, call someone, anyone. DoM, Department of Magic, My Father worked close with them, so I figured they'd be best to call. I don't think I've been normal since that day. Neither has my dear Mother. She doesn't speak anymore. I'm getting real close to placing her into a psych ward. Somewhere far away from me, the constant reminder of her deceased husband. If only we knew why. Nobody hangs themself for no reason, something deeper was within him. Something he refused to share. I had to find out. So, by the time my seventeenth birthday rolled around. I had one wish, one and only wish. That was to find out who wanted my Father dead. I work for Him now. And it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever done in my life. But some things need to be done to unravel the truth.