Seventeen-year-old Harper Thorne thought moving with her mother from her crowded hometown in California to a small, gloomy town in Washington called Forks would be a wonderful fresh start, and would help her move forward from her agonizing past.
Lit...
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Before I knew it, the taxi driver was already pulling up to a large brick building with a large sign hanging from the side of it that read "Mimi's School of Dance."
I wouldn't have been able to read it clearly if it weren't for the tall street lights that stood by the building — the sky was pitch black by the time I arrived.
I pulled out some cash from my wallet and handed it to the driver while thanking him before I got out of the car. He gave me one last look of concern before driving away down another street — I was now alone in the pitch darkness.
I exhaled deeply from holding my breath before stepping over to the front door of the studio. It looked as if nobody was there, or had been there for a while.
All the lights were off on the inside from what I could see through the blind-covered windows, and the parking lot was empty as well.
Without any more hesitation, I went to tug on the door handle, immediately noticing it was left unlocked, puzzling me.
I slowly turned the knob and lightly pushed open the door. Inside was a dark carpeted lobby, with a small seating area in the corner lined with wooden cushioned chairs along with a check-in desk near it.
I looked around the quiet, bleak room, questioning if Bella had actually come here, or was no longer here if she did.
That's when, without warning, a loud scream echoed through the building.
I jolted in place from the shriek, tightly covering my mouth to hold back a gasp as panic raced through my body.
I ran over to the stained glass double doors that I assumed led to the dance floors, and tried looking in first to see if I saw anything through the glass.
That was when I thought I could see a tall, dark figure far in the distance — moving steadily towards the center of the room in the direction of something that looked to be lying flat on the floor that I couldn't see clearly through the glass.
My heart was pounding so loud through my chest, that I feared it could easily be heard in this quiet building. I tried my hardest to control my breathing so I wouldn't hyperventilate and found it in myself to carefully try to push open the door quietly.
By some miracle, I was able to not make any visible noise as I pressed it open and only cracked it open enough to where I could peek in.
The sight I saw sent immediate terror down my veins.
On the wooden floor in the center of the dance floor, there was Bella — lying helplessly on the ground, leaning against one of the large mirrors, breathing heavily as she stared up in fear at a tall, pale man towering over her sinisterly.
I immediately recognized it to be James — the one who had been tracking us.
His long, honey-blonde hair looked brighter from the moonlight that shone through the glass windows toward the ceiling — although I could only see his side view, his eyes looked blacker than soot.
