Winding Back

3- Matt

I looked warily at the old house. Should I go inside? Yes? No? I wrestled with the conflict inside of me. Before eventually deciding to be like Nike and just do it. I began walking towards the house, but halted in my tracks when I heard a voice.

It was cold, hard, and expressionless, it held a sense of authority, as if it knew what it said was law, and that it would be obeyed. I felt myself shiver at the sound of it.

Thud. Thud. Thud. He's coming this way! Move! But I couldn't, my feet were frozen. I was paralysed with fear.

I saw a dark shadow come around the side of the house. At the last second, I dove behind a nearby bush. A man stomped round the corner, muttering to himself.
He was large, brawny, but strong. I scowled at the sight of him.

Over the years, I have become pretty good at reading people by their expression. I could tell if they were nice, mean, angry, all with one look.

However, never in my life, had I seen a man so angry. He began walking down the side of the road, I noticed he was in a smart suit, must be going to work. When he was over the hill, and out of sight, I took a deep breath, and went towards the creaky old house.
I placed my bony hand on the door, pushing it softly, it swung open with a loud creek. I heard a quiet gasp, it sounded as though it came from a girl.

"R-Russell. I-I didn't know y-you were coming," She stuttered, she sounded terrified. Who the hell is Russell? Why does he scare her so much?

"Whose Russell?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them. She sucked in a breath.

"W-who are you?" I heard her soft footsteps coming towards me. I looked around, desperately searching for somewhere to hide.

I seemed to be in a tiny living room. A faded green couch rested in the corner, and an old leather armchair faced a worn down coffee table. A single lamp cast a deathly glow across the room.

I sighed, there was nowhere to hide. Her footsteps became louder, but they sounded timid, as if she was tip toeing. The door creeped open, I saw the siloette of a short girl, around my age, and the dusty hallway behind her.

She stepped into the light. The first thing I noticed was that she was pale, deathly pale, it was almost as if she had never seen the light of day. She was wearing a long white dress, it was plain faded, and worn. Threadbare. Her eyes were sunken and cheeks hollow. She was skinny, painfully skinny, she was obviously not getting enough food. But, the man before was in an expensive suit, so they couldn't be poor.

Yet that wasn't what made me gasp out loud when I saw her. That wasn't what made my hand fly up to my mouth.

Despite her deprived appearance, she was beatiful. Her chestnut, shoulder length hair fell down in waves, streaks of golden highlights weaved through its depths. Her wide amber eyes were littered with flecks of gold.

My voice rang out, hard and clear.

"Have we met before?"

---------------------------------------

Hiiiiiiiiiiii,

Do you like it so far?

-Saphire