Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

 

 

 

The blackness enfolded me, like a huge smothering blanket. A faint glow came from the corner of my left eye, and I immediately followed. Anything was better than this. The sensible part of my brain knew I was dreaming, yet it still screamed STOP. The light grew larger, and it was not because I was closer. It was moving, whatever IT was, yet I helplessly staggered towards it.

“Hayden,” It taunted, over and over, more like a deep feeling than a sound. I turned my back on it facing the blackness, and it was only then I realised, I wasn’t alone.

I woke up with a gasp, sweat stained sheets and damp hair. I sighed, that was the third time this week I’d had that nightmare, and it creeped me out more than I could say. But every time I had it, I’d only caught a glimpse of the figure behind me, tall and lean. That was all I ever saw. My clock read 5:59 AM. Third time that week I’d woken up at that time. As I contemplated the coincidence, Nadine stirred in her sleep, pink blanket up to her chin, brunette hair in her messy ’bedtime bun’ as she called it.

I eased out of my single bed, crammed in my half of the room. It was crammed like everything else we owned, our house was just too small for us, two bedrooms, adjoined living room, kitchen and dining room, and then one small bathroom. I always laughed walking through our bedroom door, because the first thing you’d see, is half a room painted red, and half painted light blue. My side was gothic to the core, black netting, dark red lampshade’s, black blankets, and one half of our small, dingy window was my dark red curtain. To complete the room, all you needed was a super gothic, thin girl, which as it happens, that was me, well nearly me anyway. I was considered an emo, but I still liked the occasional summer clothing. I had died black hair, and dark eye make-up to frame my glossy, shocking blue coloured eyes, and then to top that, lacy dark clothes, most with skulls. Everyone said I looked older than fourteen, and I secretly agreed.  

And then your eyes would drift to the light blue netting over a single pink bed, pink curtain, and rainbow shade’s. Plastered on her shelves and bed were teddies: unicorns mostly, and horses, and there stood a few intact barbies too. Nadine was twelve, but she couldn’t be parted with her childhood memories. As much as I taunted her over that fact, I felt respectful that she’d put up such a fight over it.

I walked out my door and down our stairs, trying not to be clumsy, yet failing. Badly. I cringed when my foot hit our washing basket, and listened intently for noises of habitation. Dad’s snoring continued, and I heaved a sigh.

“Hayden?” I jumped while biting down on my hand to not scream. It was Nadine.

“Jeez, Nadine. You trying to kill me?” I whispered furiously. She looked at our parents room apologetically.  

“Sorry” she shrugged. I motioned for her to follow me downstairs. No use being mad, after all it was my clumsiness that woke her in the first place. We walked into our weird downstairs and into the back part which was the kitchen. I walked a little more easily now we were out of earshot, and opened one of our four wooden cupboards to grab the coffee. 

“So what are you doing up so early?” I asked while switching on the kettle, back still turned. I heard Nadine scrape back a chair and sit down.

“Pfft. I’m surprised mum and dad aren’t. Seriously, have you ever heard of the word quiet?” She whined. I glanced at her. 

“Ever heard of the words shut up? Accidents happen, you’re an example of one. See?“ I poured the water into my coffee mug and stirred.

“Toast please.” Nadine commanded.

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