GLASS CHILDREN [Completed]

DARKNESS IS MY FRIEND

"What did you do to me?!" Nikolas yelled out with his fists slamming against his sides in anger while he glanced towards Lily and the boy who had yet to have a name in his thoughts. As his body lay against the cold, dirt-ridden ground before him with a twisted arm and a faint line of blood flowing from his nose, he wondered if his parents were going to find him that way...still and murdered. He didn't want this and he knew in his heart that his mother and father didn't, either.

"We made you one of us," the boy, who wore a jean jacket over a faded orange shirt and had his hair combed off to the side, softly, slide down from the playground equipment on a red pole that was attached to a spot beside the twisty slide. He smirked when he hit the ground and walked up behind Lily who seemed to be unamused with the situation.

"Yeah," she agreed, kneeling down next to the dead body of Nikolas. "Just like my brother said...we made you one of us."

"Well, you and your brother are going to go to jail once I get back home and tell my parents." Nikolas remarked, smartly, as his face flooded with an angering expression.

"Your parents?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Dude, don't you get it?" he asked, stepping closer to Nikolas.

"Get what?" Nikolas questioned, glancing down at his body once more, not getting the fact that he would never see or hear from his parents again.

"You're dead," Lily answered before her brother. "We killed you." she added. "We killed you and your parents will never see you again. You ran away from them because they were fighting. Don't you remember?"

"They were fighting?" the dark brown-haired boy asked as his eyes widened with fear and realization. He looked away from his lifeless body and then to his hands; they were caked with a light layer of dirt and rust from the swing he'd been sitting in moments ago before the...incident. "My Mom and Dad n..."

"Let me guess," the boy cut him off. "They never fight?" he asked.

"Yeah..."

"Neither did ours until Lily and I were sent off to Rose—"

"Shut up!" the boy's sister shoved him a few inches back. Obviously, he'd almost revealed something that he shouldn't have. "You're not supposed to tell him yet."

Nikolas stood helpless to the conversation. "Tell me what?" he asked, looking towards them with a single movement of his head. He was still staring at his body on the playground's floor.

His question hung in the air and lingered for a moment as he waited for an answer; nothing came. "Tell me what?" he asked again, looking around only to find that no one was there but the playground equipment around him and the nearly silent squeaking of the swings as they swayed in the air, back and forth.

"Aren't you going to follow us?" a familiar voice echoed with a giggle from the darkness beyond the playground. "Come on...we'll show you."

Nikolas was terrified to the bone of the chilling laughter that was emitting from the blackened woods that he was now staring at, searching for Lily and her unnamed little brother in the sinkhole of nothing but rustles and hard-to-make-out trees. His breath quickened with each passing second, causing light puffs of air to be seen in front of him. Boy, did his heartrate quicken, too...he could feel it in his chest as he began to sweat.

"Come on..." one of them began to say over and over and over again so much that it was all Nikolas could hear; the squeaking of the swings had stopped by then and the voice coming from the obscure woods was beginning to drive him crazy like demon in an asylum that wrote petrifying sayings and drawings all over their rooms.

"Come on—come on—come on—COME ON! COME ON! COMEONCOMEONCOMEON!"

The two words pierced his mind for seconds that seemed like years or even centuries, but suddenly, they stopped. Everything stopped.

Out of breath and clearly out of his stressed mine, Nikolas began to slowly walk towards the source of the horrible whispering and noises of movements that were getting under his skin. With every spine-chilling call of his name and the repetition of 'Come on!' his only choice was to follow his unauthorized commands.