Trying the Terror (on hold)

Chapter 7

I havent uploaded in a while so I came up with this. If you don't like it suggest me something and I'll fix to suit. To those of you who've read this I GIVE YOU A BIG HUG, I'm brooks so don't expect cash :S

i.

I dragged my feet somewhat quickly considering I was exhausted. One sloppy needless step in front of the other on my way toward my house. Where the hell was Ashley when I needed her? That child is always getting distracted. She was supposed to drop me home; we had just talked about my safety. I sighed aloud; the sound seemed to echo for a distance.

The streets weren't quiet and walking them alone disturbed me. I kept getting that feeling; you know the goosebumps at the back of your neck, clammy palms and paranoia extreme. Yeah, that was me the entire walk home. Did I mention I hate detention?

I got home fifteen minutes later. I dropped my bag in the closet on top of mounds of shoes. I winced when I noticed I'd crushed the leather of my black strap heel, but its not as though I'm actually going to wear them out. I never go out anymore, well not out, out. I haven't gone to a party since Ashley's birthday, last year.

"I'm way too sad." I announced waltzing into the living room.

"Tell me something I don't already know." Anna said laughing. Great, just what I need a critic in my own home.

"Tell me something I don't know." I repeated mockingly, I smirked when she ignored me and inched the volume higher on the tele. Anna was slouched in her work suit one shoe on, the other on the coffee table, watching Law and Order. I giggled inwardly at her, she's researching what's going to happen to her is she.

"Stop laughing," she instructed. "Allen's not home but I have him on speed dial, so don't think about doing anything stupid. Yeah, so don't do anything at all."

I rolled my eyes at her and she smiled triumphantly then turned back to watch the tv. "That wonderful boy is staying in your room. Such a genius."

I lightly stomped off to my bedroom swung the door open and gasped. Where was all my clutter? Paper after paper, the fountain of leaves that were scattered on my floor was gone. The books were stacked neatly and placed spine outward on the mahogany shelves I'd never use. The clothes that usually [completely concealing the titles were actually in the hamper... Seriously?

"Kyle?" I called. I was semi surprised he'd gotten so much done in the space of a few hours. I trotted past the wooden doorframe only to find him deliciously stretched across my bed in a Barcelona jersey and khakis. Sweat was lightly latent on the features of his face, and although he was sleeping his muscles looked tense and quite built like I'd first assessed.

I found myself holding on to my arm keeping back the urge to run my fingers through his dark hair. He looked tired, but not troubled. It was his weird calm expression that activated me.

After realising I was being a little creeper staring at him while he slept I switched on the AC hoping he'd stop sweating on my sheets. I walked quietly to my organised desk once I shut the door. I pulled a pack of pretzels from my drawer and a pillow that wasn't propping Kyle up.

I thought about doing work, I'm not going to lie, but the air conditioning felt too good and my feet felt too heavily. Instead I leaned against the desk my flicking curly hair falling all over my face as I drifted off to sleep.

ii.

The crying hadn't stopped. The woman lay there dead still covered from her torso down in her own blood. She looked absent; her brown-eyed stare was empty. Her body looked young, but sagged, worn from the muscle stress and spasms that consumed her mere minutes before. Her wavy hair covered her chest hiding the baby in a web of amber silk.