YES IK AUTHOR'S NOTE BEFORE CHAPTER, WEIRD RIGHT? Well anyway, I've gotten a few questions about how Hope knows certain things. Well, 1. Anything that had to do with parties, she knows. Just listen to the 1st chapter and you'll know why. 2. Sometimes random stuff is left in the attic. 3. She observes people, she's been able to find out things over the past 11 years. 4. Her Mom was still there to teach her things!! Thanks for reading! Wanna let you know that your positive feedback boosts my confidence and creativity! Keep voting and commenting :* (Yes, I update once/twice a week. Sometimes more. I also have other stories you know!) Another thanks, my most popular book so far on this account. So now I save my stories on document.
CHAPTER 1:
I'm currently sitting on a old, ratty couch. In front of a blazing fireplace. Wearing an oversized gray sweater and black tights. Nicole let me borrow some clothes, and I'm grateful. The hoodie and jeans were starting to feel sweaty.
I take another sip of the hot cocoa, marshmallows floating on top.
"You're lucky you got here when we went winter shopping." A deep voice says, I turn around facing Sam. His black curls looking messy, blue eyes calm. The gray and white tribal striped sweater he's wearing makes his muscles stand out. His bottoms consist of some old, ripped, denim jeans.
"Hi," I greet, taking another sip of cocoa. Sam comes towards me, taking the seat next to me. Shivers go up my spine when I feel him staring at me. I'm sure he's fine, he isn't drunk anymore, I can tell. His eyes linger towards my back, scanning me like some robot. I'm very uncomfortable right now, he's kind of creeping me out.
"Where's Nathan?" He asks, seeming care free.
"I think he's in his room, why?" I answer, then questioning him. He scoots a little closer, laughing.
"No reason, darling." That's when I can smell faint alcohol in his breath. I don't like him, he's too... revealing. Like that lousy desk registration woman. How many more people am I going to find who act like that?
"W-well I'm kinda hungry, I will just be heading a sn-" Sam cuts me of my pushing me against the couch. I gulp, I feel more scared than a nice being hunted by cheese taps and cats. An evil, entertained look dances around in his eyes.
"You don't know what's it's like in the big city, darling. So I will show you, take this as a lesson." I have no idea what he meant, but I'm not looking forward to finding out. Giving a swift knee to where the sun don't shine, I roll onto the floor. I hear Sam mutter some words I've heard the party people say. I scramble into the hallway, knocking on Nathan's door, regaining my composure. Sam gives me a look, before walking away.
Nathan's door swings open, revealing him shirtless. "What?" He mumbles, I must say he has muscle.
"Uhm, I just need to come in." I say, waking right past him and into the room. Far away from Sam, check. Nathan gives me a confused look, closing the door. I sit on his messed up bed awkwardly, wondering what to tell him. Nathan could help me understand what Sam was doing, what he meant. Since Sam is his friend, he surely can answer my thoughts!
"Do you know alot about Sam?" I ask, finally deciding to tell him.
"Why?"
"Well, he was acting... weird. He kept looking at me and calling me daring, then he wouldn't let me go get a snack." As I explained, Nathan seemed to tense. When I finish, Nathan is gunning and his fists are vibrating roughly.
"Nathan, what's wrong?" I ask worrisome of his sudden mood change. What Sam did, was it bad? Maybe I shouldn't have told Nathan. But I feel like I can trust him. Nathan gives me a stern look.
"Do not every go near Sam again, do not look at him or interact with him. He's a bad person." He demands, talking to me like I am five. Oh how I hate when he does that.
"Alright?" I reply, wondering what he meant. Before I can ask, he leaps out of his chair and lunges out the door. I sigh, I don't think what he's up to is going to be good. I can feel it in my gut. While I'm in here, maybe I could take a look around.
Getting up from my seat, I scan his room. It's pretty bare, just his plain bed with navy blue covers. A small light brown desk in the corner. Since the bed obviously has no meaning, I decide to check out the desk. It has a small shelf on top, and a little drawer on the bottom. There's just a few dust bunnies on the top shelf, nothing interesting. I open the bottom drawer, and I find something interesting.
A black object with a small handle. I don't know what it is, but I'm interested. Picking it up, it feels a little big in my small hands. What does the handle do? Carefully, I wrap my hands into what I think is the correct position.
"Hope, why do you have a gun!?" Nicole shouts, slapping the gun out of my hand.
"It's called a gun? And I found this in his drawer." I reply, looking at her strangely.
"What were you about to shoot?" She asks, placing the gun back into the drawer.
"Shoot? What are you talking about I was just trying to see what the handle does." I answer, shrugging.
"Guns are dangerous, and it's called a trigger." She informs me, shaking her head.
"How are guns dangerous?" I question, giving her an innocent look.
"They're mainly used to kill people, Hope. I'm surprised you don't know, haven't you at least heard a gunshot?" She answers, asking even more questions.
"No, can you show me what they sound like?" I say, getting the gun back out of the drawer. She thinks hesitantly, then sighing.
"It won't hurt to shoot the fence." She mutters, grabbing the gun out of my hand. I jog down the stairs after her. She opens the back door to a wide open space. Well, at least when she shoots the fence it won't cause any damage. It already is really torn up. Nicole puts one leg behind the other, stretching her arms out. Both of her hands are on the gun, and she seems to be looking at a little spot on the fence growing weeds. Her finger pushes on the trigger.
The sound triggers my thoughts.
The sound doesn't stop ringing, it keeps echoing through my head. The shot, the gun, the death. Her face pops up in my mind again. Thoughts of the same face but with blood. The sight is revolting, I feel disgruntled. The gun killed her, it took her away from me. The scream echoes in my mind again before I see black.
~*~
I awaken to my head bulging like it's been stabbed multiple times. I moan in response to the sudden pain.
"Hope, you're awake?" Nathan's voice let's me know I'm alive. Painfully, I open my eyes, immediately squinting them.
"Y-yeah." I answer, my throat dry and raspy. He gives me a worried look before getting up.
"I'm going to get you some water, I don't need you getting sick." He tells me before walking out. I'm left alone on his bed. The smell of watermelon fills my nose, and I sniff the cover some more. Whoa I didn't know he smelt like watermelon. That's weird. As I snugge into the warm covers, a creak enters the room. I look at the doorway expecting Nathan.
But no, it's Sam.
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The Hidden Child (#WATTYS2015)
Roman pour Adolescents-UPDATES TWICE A WEEK- -BOOK OPENING SEPTEMBER 21ST- Staring out my window and daydreaming is like a hobby to me. Why do people sit around all day, checking their phones, and not discovering the world? It puzzles me... ~Hope ~*~ Hope Th...
