Acrid Tastes of Fear

Chapter 1

Bewildered by a grim determination. A story for the young and old but not for the faint-hearted.

You've been warned...

The wind blew vigorously and unwillingly in the cold, bitter night. Whistling winds lashed the towering trees with sheets of rushing rain and the moon sent out a cold breath of light that deceived the people who anxiously walked the eerie streets of Chicago, seeming to illuminate but tricking their eyes with prodigious shapes that integrated with the impassive shadows dancing along the horizon. Thick heaps of fog began to form and passers by would emerge briefly from the gloom only to disappear from view after taking just a few steps. The rambunctious sound of heavy droplets echoed from street to street whilst keeping it’s rhythm to maintain that cosy and relaxing sound you would love to hear when bundled up by the fireplace on a night such as this. As the rain hissed continuously and lightning struck the sky, some primal instinct somewhat insinuated to the people who were out on the street to run away from the mighty storm but they just carried on walking completely oblivious to the weather condition, hands hidden in their pockets and heads tightly jammed to their chests. For the town of Illinois, the weather was always this dark and obscure. It was like being in a world where no one existed and all of the happiness and positivity that once existed had been fully drained like water rapidly whizzing down a plug hole after a nice, long soak in the bath. This was just a normal and typical day in Chicago. Nothing new and nothing unexpected but all that was about to change.

Morning broke and the sun and rain cast out an exquisite rainbow that seemed to show off it’s flexibility by bending into a tight semi-circle and stretching out into the distance. People got up early, far too early for my liking, to either go to work or walk their dog but for me, I intended to stay in bed all day. Of course, that would never go to plan. I am completely dubious to the saying ‘The early bird catches the worm’. My mind was fuzzy, the last remnants of a dream being chased by the realisation that I was awake again. It was a nice dream, something about sitting under a colossal oak tree in a meadow full of flowers and humming birds but the details were fading rapidly even as I tried to recall them. It was that type of dream you wished was real but being realistic, where in Illinois can you sit in a peaceful area listening to the sound of birds imitating your every whistle under the shade of an oak tree? From my perception, this dream seemed to boast how the creative things you can come up with are better than the reality of where you suffer exhaustion and let your emotions take over. With a mental sigh, I allowed my brain to focus and cautiously open one eye. The bright spring sunlight cut my room in half and I saw dust motes dancing in the wall of light. I pulled the duvet up over my head to keep it out. It wasn’t going to work though, my brain was awake now and already worrying about the long day ahead of me. I sat up and swung my legs to the side of my bed, smothering my face with my hands trying to recover from the conspicuous sunlight. My mother burst into my bedroom like she knew I was awake but without any consideration that I am a 16 year old girl who likes her privacy once in a while.

“Oh good, you’re up. Do you want me to prepare you some breakfast now or after you’ve got ready?” she said, leaning on the door handle for support. I sighed and gave her the answer I always gave.

“Later Mom, I doubt I’ll eat it all though so just put me a bit up. You know that I don’t usually like eating this early in the morning anyway so there’s no reason for you to fuss” I smiled so it didn’t look like I was being ungrateful or inconsiderate. With my mother’s understanding level being exceptionally high, she tossed me an apple for me to eat on the way to school. Monday’s was the worst day of the week. Just walking to school knowing that you’ve got a long week ahead of you makes me shudder. The sun hammered down mercilessly and the dampness of the rain didn’t make the temperature any better. I put my headphones into my ear’s to escape the outside world which was full of people who suffered narcissistic tendencies and them type of people who can’t recognise the difference between right and wrong. I adjusted the volume of my music to the lowest bar and I heard my best friend, Jodie, calling me from the other side of the road. “Hey you, what you listening to?” she said in a gentle voice.

“Just music, nothing special” I said in a somewhat sarcastic tone. Jodie smiled and even with metal plastered over her teeth she still makes a beautiful best friend. After about fifteen minutes of trekking through mud and grass in my newest pair of Converse, me and Jodie finally arrived at school. The same groups were in their usual places, the football team, the cheerleaders and me and my friends. My friends and I weren’t the typical popular kids but we knew how to have a good time. All the cheerleaders were good at were bending their legs in awkward positions and frolicking about like little gymnasts and for the football jocks, they were good at either scoring perfect touchdowns or getting laid. For me and my friends, we were happy to be individuals who concentrated on getting good grades and a good reputation in and out of school. As soon as we reached the steps to the entrance of the school, the bell rang and the deafening sound startled me. Me and Jodie quickly jogged to class because frankly, we have never been late to our form room so we didn’t want to take the risk of just strolling into class at an unreasonable time.

“Quickly girls, I’m just about to take the register” said Miss. Burns abruptly. Her hair was pulled back tight in a permanent pucker of disapproval so I instantly guessed this wasn’t one of her best of days. I sat down gently, swinging my bag underneath my desk. I guess I kind of liked Miss. Burns because she gave me good grades and she was the type of teacher that understands how important the grades are to me. Even though she’s snappy and commanding, in her defence, she does help you if you’re stuck on anything and she explains things thoroughly so you won’t be there sitting in class twiddling your thumbs and tapping your pencil on the desk, wondering what to do. Miss. Burns turned on the radio to soothe the tone of the miserable class and happened to come across the news. I was too involved in colour co-ordinating my pencil crayons to understand the reason to why there was a sudden gasp that came from everyone in my classroom.

But then I heard it…