Step... Step... Step... The baby's cries rang in her ears every step she took. Placing her hand on the bedroom door, she pushed, and it swung open. With the thump of the door against the wall, the crying ceased.
"Abby?" The woman poked her head into the room. On the worn carpet, pools of blood stained the original cream color. The woman's face went pale as her eyes glazed over the two bodies lay side by side on the floor. A creak downstairs sent a flood of panic throughout her. She swiftly moved into the room, holding her breath, snatched up the child and ran, trying not to look too much at the corpses of her friends.
"It's ok.. Don't worry.." She tried to comfort the baby as she quickly, yet silently moved downstairs, into the living room, and out the door into the dark, bitterly cold night.
The memory began to fade as Elle was slowly brought to consciousness by her annoyingly loud alarm clock. She took a deep breath in before turning onto her side. Reaching out, she felt for the button on the clock and pressed it. Finally, she thought as she sighed. Elle closed her eyes, the comfort of her bed almost seducing her back to sleep, but before she could rest again, the door burst open.
"Elle! I made bacon!" It was a man's voice, her foster dad's voice. Elle groaned as she forced her eyes back open. Slowly, she sat up and pushed the soft, grey blanket off of her. When she realized he was still in the room, she smiled at him hoping he'd go away.
"Well, it'll be out here when you're ready." The man said as he closed the door, leaving Elle by herself once more. She swung her legs off the bed and let her feet touch the cold floor. Rubbing her eyes, she stood up and stretched her arms. I wish he would've turned the light on at least. Her eyes moved to the window above her desk, where opaque black curtains covered the sunlight. She opened them, yawning. The bright, warm light flooded her dark, cold room. The light hit her torso, the warmth of it thawing her chilled body. She took a seat at her desk and stared at herself in the mirror. Blinking, she turned her focus to her brush and started to drift. For a second, the brush seemed to shift. This brought her back to reality. What the hell.. Did it move? Elle stared at the brush for a second more before just blaming it on her tired brain. She brushed her hair, walked over to her closet. Changing from her pjs to a grey hoodie and leggings, she was ready.
Opening the door of her room, the smell of fresh cooked bacon wafted past her. Quiet banter could be heard from the kitchen. Elle took a step into the kitchen and the chatter stopped.
"Good Morning sweetie!" The cheery voice of her foster mom was heard first. Elle, since she could remember, had been in and out of foster care, going from home to home. She never knew her parents and when she asked about them, no one seemed to have a straight answer, so she had decided that asking was unnecessary. Usually she seemed to move from one family to another within a few months. Whenever Elle was brought back to the foster home she was always sent away to her room but always stayed around to listen to her foster parents and the caretakers talk. All the foster parents seemed to do was complain about how much of a pain Elle was... They saw her as a chore to take care of. This family though, seemed to like her. They never gave her annoyed looks, they at least seemed happy when she was around. It was almost weird to her, but even though she never really wanted a foster family anyways, she tried to be kind.
"Morning. John said there was bacon?" Elle gave them a sleepy smile, happy about the thought of breakfast before school. John, her foster father, nodded and slid a plate of bacon across the counter towards her.
"That's right, kiddo." John himself took a bite of the bacon making a nice crunch. Looking at her watch, Elle realized she should probably hurry up just to make sure she wasn't late for her first class. She decided she had enough time to munch on a few pieces of bacon while her foster parents began talking amongst each other. Once Elle finished what she was eating, she figured she'd get up and grab her bag, heading for the door.
YOU ARE READING
The Edge
Mystery / ThrillerStep... Step... Step... The baby's cries rang in her ears every step she took. Placing her hand on the bedroom door, she pushed, and it swung open. With the thump of the door against the wall, the crying ceased. A story about a crazy, dark adventure...