⋆⭒˚｡⋆ᴍʏᴛʜɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴏᴜɴᴅ✧˖°.

𓆩ᴏɴᴇ𓆪

It's dark. It's cold.

Where am I?

I look around. I am alone.

Behind me, there are footsteps and they echo.

I am frightened. I wrap my arms around myself.

I think that whatever or whoever is here with me is trying to kill me.

A warm sensation relieves the tension in my back.

Its hands.

Its fingers wrap around my waist.

"Please.. don't.." I beg.

It inches closer, the hairs stand up on my neck.

I can feel its breath against my skin.

"Arden," A voice whispers in my ear.

A man.

I try to respond but, I feel too choked up.

"Arden," He repeats.

"...Damien," I reply.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　       ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶   ✦　

"Arden Fox, who the Hell are you talking to?"

My eyes crack open, my eye crust was practically gluing them shut.

"What?" I reply in a groggy voice. My throat is dry. My ceiling fan had been running all night and I was in desperate need of water.

"It is 5:30 AM and you need to get up, get ready, and do it now. You got school." My dad commands.

Lieutenant Colonel Davy Michael Fox. My military father. A 6'0 foot tall man with splotchy tattoos and a clean-cut mustache. A real piece of work, might I add.

"School doesn't start until 8:00." I groan with my face stuffed directly into my pillow.

"A nice morning jog will put you in the right mindset. Get up. I won't ask again." He leaves the room, purposely banging his large, meaty hands on the door frame.