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The Darkest Night, Chapter 1 |
| Written by bronte | |
| Saturday, 16 August 2008 | |
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"Come again soon!" my aunt called after us. We all piled into the old car that my dad owns. I sighed. We were always coming on these "short" trips out to my aunt's. It was always so boring. I took out my iPod, and turned it to "Midnight to Midnight" by Chevelle. I sighed again. I was feeling so much anxiety today, and I didn't know why. I couldn't wait to get home so I could be "safe". If there was even such a place. "Why are you acting so crabby, Sara Grace?" my little brother James asked. My family is not exactly the closest, and we tend to argue alot. Instead of replying, I turned my iPod up as loud as it could go. I am average in looks, and height. The only thing "special" about me, would be my bright blue eyes. I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "We are almost home Sar! Can you hold on for three more minutes?!" my mom basically growled at me. I rolled my eyes at her, and went back to studying my iPod. If I didn't get home soon I was gonna pull my hair out. We pulled into our driveway, and my dad slowed down to let the dogs out. I couldn't take it anymore, I yanked out my light backpack from the back, got out of the car, and slammed the door. I started running towards the house. It was very dark outside now. The street lamps, and our neighbor's lights were all out. "Sar, we are going to go over to Alice's house for a little bit!" my mom shouted from the car. Oh boy. That means I'm going to be home alone for several hours, at least. Great, along with the anxiety I already have, I get to stay home alone on a creepy night. Perfect. I got up to the door and let myself in. I smelled bacon from this morning. All of the lights were off in the house, so I had to feel around to get where I wanted. I started to the kitchen, but stopped abruptly. There in the kitchen, were twinkling lights coming from candles in the windows. All around the kitchen table, were people standing. I could not see there faces, because of the dim light. One of the people turned around to face me. I remembered back several years ago, when Xavier, my best friend, was still alive. On one of the chilly october nights, he had given me a black, silk bag. He had told me that when I was in great need, and if I used the bag in the right way I would be safe for a little while. Footsteps broke off my memory. Now that the person was closer, I could tell more about them. It was a man of about 24 years, and had dark, shaggy hair, that was long enough to cover most of his eyes. He had dark, piercing eyes, that bore into you. Copyright 2008 bronte |
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| Last Updated ( Saturday, 16 August 2008 ) |
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