The Odd One Out

Chapter 1

Summer Moore woke up to the cold.

The bedroom window had been opened at some point, and the cold winter breeze whooshed into the room with a thin stream of rain, taking away all the heat molecules in the room and leaving only the endless wet and cold.

The air was so full of moisture that Summer's face was covered with a thin layer of dampness that froze her whole face. The bedroom was dimly lit, and all she could see was the open glass window and the curtains that were being blown around the window by the wind.

After a few seconds of dizzying struggle, Summer didn't want to leave the warmth of her bed to close the window. With the thought that even if the window was closed, the room temperature would not return, but at least it would still be warm under the blanket, she buried her head under the blanket and wiped her face, thinking of staying in bed for a while longer.

The heat from the blanket is slowly dense on her face, and her stiff, wooden head gradually warms up. Before she could drift off to sleep, the after-effects of the cold wind began to appear. Summer let out a soft "hiss" and reached out to touch her forehead, which was not as hot as she thought it would be, but rather cold. She reached for her mobile phone next to her pillow and clicked on the screen to see the time, which was only two minutes past seven in the morning.

Unable to do so, Summer shakily took the clothes from the chair next to her bed and pulled them under the covers, putting them on one by one and wrapping herself up tightly before lifting the covers and getting out of bed. The cold, wet wind poured down his neck and he shivered. He took three steps against the rain to the window and closed it with force. Outside the window was dark, the whole sky was covered by thick dark clouds, and the light that should have been dawned in the sky could not be seen.

Summer switched on the overhead light in the bedroom and the warm yellow light instantly illuminated the not very large room. There was not much furniture, just a double bed, a white wooden wardrobe and a walnut wooden desk placed in front of the window. The desk was damp and covered in rainwater, and a small evergreen potted plant in the corner of the desk was blown by the wind so that its leaves hung low in a sickly manner, and Summer looked at the water stains on the desk and suddenly became dazed.

Had she opened the window last night?

Summer thought about it for a long time but couldn't figure it out. She doesn't know if it was because of a dull headache, but her memory was a bit fuzzy. She could only vaguely remember that it had been raining for days, but nothing else came to mind, only the incessant rain.

The pain in her head severely inhibited her thinking, and Summer gave up on her memories for the time being. While thinking about making a bowl of ginger soup to take the chill away and taking some cold medicine or something, she opened the door and went out to the toilet.

There were no lights on in the living room, no one else was up yet, and the bathroom was to the right of her bedroom, across a small corridor. Summer walked slowly and leisurely towards the bathroom and had just reached the halfway point when a strange, thin sound suddenly rang out from the kitchen at the other end of the living room behind her.

If she had to describe it, it sounded like leather being torn apart, but with the crispness of torn paper, making Summer inexplicably think of something not so nice. The sound was small, interspersed with the slight rustling of rain. If the house hadn't been so quiet, Summer might have missed it.

Out of some unknown thought, almost subconsciously, Summer approached the kitchen without making a sound, silently and quickly, using a broom in the corner of the living room as a weapon on the way. Summer's night vision was always good, and when she reached the kitchen door, she could clearly see a dark figure in a white dress and long hair standing at the kitchen counter with her back to her, her head down, tinkering with something and occasionally wiping at her face. As she got closer, the sound became less obvious, and Summer approached the figure with a broom in each hand, cautiously.