Danny F. Morgans
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Sirens wailed. Red and blue lights winked at me through my window. I groggily got out of bed and sauntered towards the door, cracking it open. My eyes widened as police cars scattered one of my neighbor's lawns. Police tape surrounded the perimeter of the house and an old man stood at the mailbox shaking, tufts of white hair poking out of his small, shiny, bald head. A green, clunky 1999 Chevy was parked in the garage. My breath hitched. That car looked awfully familiar. I read the license plate. It was almost exactly like..
"Kayde" I croaked.
I sprinted towards your house and was soon bombarded with strong, muscular police arms. But I ignored them. I had to know why you weren't outside with your grandfather or whoever he was. I pushed through the sea of people and policemen, shoving myself into the house. I scurried around and frantically called out your name. "Kayde?" My voice bounced around the room. I heard the crackle of walkie-talkies upstairs and worried voices. Darting up the stairs, I burst into your room.
The scene was scarring and morbid. Your green mint-colored curtains were shredded . The laptop on the bed was emitting an eerie white noise. Freckles of blood dotted the fuzzy carpet and a large puddle of blood seeped into the carpet, your body on top of it. When I first saw you there, gracefully spread out on the floor, my mind simply refused to believe that you were gone. Your pale, snowy cheeks and wide eyed eyes stared at the ceiling. Your hands and feet all stuck out in awkward positions, your brown soft hair cascading over your face. It was the most horrifying, beautiful thing I have ever seen.
My chin wobbled and it felt like a golf ball was lodged inside my throat. I couldn't cry, or scream. Instead, I just threw up. Gooey, green vomit dribbled down my chin and my vision blurred. I could feel myself sinking through the floorboards of your house. Sinking deep into the core of the earth. And everything went black.
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I woke up in a puddle of sweat. back in my room. The sun weakly shone through the window, spilling onto my pale, clammy face. My eyes lazily scanned the bedroom and noticed something that hadn't been there the night before. It was a crumpled piece of paper that stood on my nightstand, shriveled up. I smoothed it out and made out the words.
Danny.
Meet me at Priscilla's party tonight at 10:02 sharp. In the closet of her parents bedroom.
Kayde O. Matthews
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Relax. I'm not dead. I'm very much alive.
A/N:
quick little chapter guys. the main storyline will catch on in the next chapter or two. it takes time. next update will come soon!
