Hey guys. I wanted to give you my info for some other social media appsssss.
Instagram : __allyssaxx
Facebook : don't have one. I personally think it's stupid...
Snapchat : (sorry that's a bit too personal but if you message me on here and prove to me that you aren't a stalker, pervert, satanist, atheist, rapist etc... Then I will gladly give you meh snappychatty;)
Yeah that's pretty much it lol I suck at having social media and being...social lolz
Okay, I'll let you enjoy the story now.
Read on,
-Ally
* * *
My eyes slowly open and I hiss, covering my eyes to shield them from the moonlight shining through the window.
I wince when my head suddenly throbs, blood rushing past my eardrums, ringing loudly as it went.
"Holy mother of cheese that hurts." I groan, bringing my fingers slowly up to the back of my head. When I feel a large bump and a little dried blood over the wound I begin to freak out.
What the heck happened?
I suck in a breath as I pull the covers off me and step onto the hardwood floor.
It's dark in the house and I hear the fans on in each room as I pass them.
When exactly did I go to sleep?
I close my eyes and brace myself against the wall, trying to think of my last memory.
I furrow my eyebrows. The last thing I remember is pranking Zedd with Darren...and then he got really mad and-
"Ah" I hiss, my head aching at the strain. "That jerkwad." I mumble under my breath when I can't remember exactly what happened. What I'm assuming is that Zeddewyn the dude-bag attacked me and almost killed me.
I head to the kitchen and slowly sip on a glass of water, feeling dehydrated.
I set my cup in the sink but pause when I hear a clank sound. I furrow my eyebrows and look around but I see no one in here but me. I shrug and turn to walk up the stairs but I hear it again, this time I head to the window and push aside the blinds.
At first I'm confused to see a boy out there but then I realize who it is.
Mysterious Underwear Thief.
Despite it being seventy degrees outside I pull my sweater around me, feeling the breeze against my bare legs.
His side profile shines under the moonlight as he crouches by his blacked out Harley Davidson, a wrench in his hand. He doesn't see me standing there on my porch until I've been watching him for several minutes.
"Ah! Sh-"
"-itaki mushrooms." I finish for him from my front porch.
He stiffens in annoyance at my interruption and slowly stands from his crouched position.
His annoyed expression lightens and turns into his usual smirk. "Oh. It's you."
YOU ARE READING
Five Things
Teen FictionThis story involves many things. Perhaps it's clichè and perhaps it's not. It's the story of Max Keller. The girl who was forced to move and transfer schools when she was fourteen only to be harassed by a boy with lots of freckle and lots of questi...
