The Smog Storm (Discontinued)

Chapter One

I bolted upright from sleep as a high-pitched scream resounded through the air. My heart beat fast as my hand reached to turn on my bedside lamp. My fingers felt around shakily as another wail pierced my heart. A million different scenarios ran through my head as I urged my fingers to move faster. I felt the cold metal beads and pulled with all my might, practically ripping the string off in my hase to turn on the lamp.

I froze when I saw the dark fog surrounding my bed. My heart leapt into my throat when another scream - more raspy this time - seized a hold of my eardrums. I tossed the blankets aside as I lunged out of bed. I tripped over my own feet as I ran to my bedroom door. I could barely see, but that didn't matter in that moment. Nor did it matter that my nostrils were slowly beginning to burn. All that did matter was getting to the screaming. 

"Bertha..." I croaked out.

The screaming continued.

"Bertha!" I cried as I felt around for my door knob.

I fumbled with my door knob for a few seconds as Bertha's screams started to get quieter. Bang! My door crashed open as I sprinted down the hallway to Bertha's room, on the way I banged my knee against a table. I bit my bottom lip to muffle the sounds of my pain, while searching for the door to her room.

My breathing came out more like wheezing and my heart thumped like a bass drum. Tears still blurred my minimal vision as Bertha's screams turned into a dreadful wail. I was covered in sweat by the time the palm of my hand found the edge of the door frame.

Oh God, please let Bertha be okay, I thought.

She may not have been a very good friend in the past year, but we had been friends since grade 3. I couldn't stand it if something awful had happened to her. Suddenly as if the screaming had never happened, the air went deadly silent. I stopped breathing and my hand trembled as I slowly turned the knob. Some inner part of me knew what I'd find if I entered and it wanted for me to just walk away. However, my body moved of its own accord and I went inside.

"B-Bertha....." I said hesitantly.

I used the walls as a support while I tried to get to Bertha's bed. It probably only took minutes, but it felt like hours by the time I finally reached her bed. Beads of sweat trailed down my forehead and I could feel a bruise forming on my knee. I looked down at the bed and the still form of Bertha and saw no movement. Not even so much as a hand twitch.

Even though I knew she wasn't alive, my heart refused to believe what my mind was telling me. I grabbed both her shoulders, shaking them frantically while yelling at her to wake up. A huge part of me hoped that she would just open her eyes and tell me to get lost before I dislocated her shoulders, but minutes passed and..... nothing.

I begged and pleaded for her to be alive, whether to Bertha or to God, Himself, I don't know. Even when my throat became raw and sore I still didn't stop. I didn't stop until the pain made me break down. Bertha was dead and nothing I did was going to bring her back. I pulled my shirt over my nose as tears rolled down my cheeks. I sobbed and let myself slide down the side of the bed to the ground.

Why did it have to be Bertha? I thought. Why couldn't it have been me?

I cried for a few minutes until I reminded myself that Bertha wouldn't have wanted me to break down. Despite her faults and imperfections I know she would have wanted me to go on even though she was no longer there. I pulled myself off the ground and out of Bertha's room, while making sure that I didn't slam myself into anymore furniture.

I managed to scuttle my way into the living room and felt around until my hand connected with the table beside the couch. The phone sat on top and I grabbed it, so I could call 911. I squinted at the numbers and let me tell you, trying to press the buttons with only one hand, did not make the situation easier.

When I finished dialing I heard a beep and then a fake, recorded voice exclaiming: "I'm sorry. The number you have reached is unavailable."

Since when is 911 ever unavailable, I thought.

I started to grow nervous again. I didn't know what to do or even why I hadn't died from the toxic fumes, like Bertha. Sure it had hurt to breathe in the fog, but it hadn't killed me.

Well I guess I'll have to go to one of the neighbors for help, I thought. There's no sense standing around here, doing nothing.

I stumbled along until I found the closet beside the front door and opened it. I looked around trying to distinguish which coat was mine. I found my black trench coat and put it on. I didn't bother with putting on clothes instead of the pajamas I wore. It hardly seemed the time to go all diva.

I slowly opened the front door. I wasn't sure of what time it was because the fog blocked out most of my sight, but I figured if it was the middle of the night I didn't want to end up waking the entire floor just by opening a door.

I was standing in my doorway when I instantly stopped. What I saw next made my blood turn to ice and my breathing stop. It wasn't just my apartment that was covered in fog. The entire floor was too.

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Oooooooooh! Find out what happens next in chapter two! Thank you to anyone who has been reading my stories. It means a lot to me. So vote, comment and check out my other books: Swan Lake Academy: Something's Fishy, Icy Kiss and One Deadly Teacup. Also keep your eyes peeled for some other books I might publish. Keep on being awesome people!

Sapphire DEVEREAUX :-):-):-):-):-):-):-)