A Trip Down Memory Lane

Chapter 1- The Nightmares

Picture of Emma on the side:)

Thud. Thud. Thud. I freeze. All I can hear is my shallow breathing, and the heavy footsteps coming towards me. Can I make it to door behind me? I don't think so. There too close.... I'm just gonna have to run. CRACK!

Darkness.

I wake up with a scream, reliving that terrifying day over and over again, trying to remember something that will help the investigation, but I just can't. I glance at the the flashing clock that reads 6:30am, time for school. Blah blah.

I quickly grab a shower, get changed, and race down the stairs only to find my mom cooking breakfast. I give her a questioning look and run out the door with a granola bar in hand. I reach the bus just in time, before it lumbers away from the curb.

My name is Emma MacEachern, and I am just about the dullest person you will ever meet. I have brown hair, grey eyes, and absolutely no sense of humour. BUT I do have sarcasm.......

I glance at the guy I'm sitting next to, but the funny thing is, is that he's already staring.

"Hey." He says softly. "My names Carson."

I give him a weird look and turn away. Nobody ever talks to me. He must be new. Well, he'll learn soon enough not to talk to me, cause he's not going to get a response.

Day after day he sits by me on the bus, and night after night I have nightmares of two months ago. My psychiatrist, Dr. Parker, explains that it'll pass, but I don't beleive him. Police have given up on the case, thinking that there's nothing else they can do, but I'm recovering bits and peices now and then. I think my memory of that night is coming back, but nobody listens to me anymore. Big surprise.

Finally, after two weeks of listening to Carson try to talk to me I gave him a little response.

When I got home from school one day, my mom was waiting for me in the kitchen, with that scary motherly look on her face.

"Hi mom,"

"Emma, you need to start getting out more, I know it's hard for you, since the incident you haven't trusted anybody, but you need to get out and make some friends." "Isn't there a nice boy out there who has caught your eye or anything? I mean, you are seventeen." My mom signs once she finishes her rant.

My mom is funny like that, when she needs to say something, it comes out in the form of a rant. It's like she needs to get it all out in the matter of about two sentences.

The next morning, I'm making eggs on toast, when guess who shows up at the door?

Carson.