Cut From the Shadows

Chapter 1

   The wind screamed outside, shadows lurked in the dismal corners of the attic, floorboards creaked, and worst of all it was freezing. My candle had burnt down long ago and my book was lying somewhere near my head. "If only the house has electricity," I thought. My thoughts wandered to when I was twelve years old.

   It was a bright and sunny day and my mother was in good spirits. I had always wondered if there were more people in the world that just me and her, because I had never seen anyone but my mother. I came to decision to go and ask her. She was working in the garden, our always present cat slinking in and out of her ankles. I walked across the lawn and stopped, because I felt as though I was being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I took a glance at my mother, but her back was turned, still pulling weeds. I turned around and looked into the woods. Not a soul in sight. I shook myself for being so gullible and skipped over to my mother. Well, I thought, might as well be direct. I tapped her gently on the back and cleared my throat. "Uhhh... mom, is there anyone else in the world besides us two, I mean, like other people?" I queried. She turned around, her expression dark.

"No there is not, and I am very busy, so go do something else!" Her voice sounded strange and high pitched, the way it sounded when she was nervous about something.

"Oh, ok," I mumbled. Her expression softened.

"What I meant is that you can go play, or help me with gardening."

"Oh, I will just go and read," answered. I trudged off to my room to go read, a discouraged look on my face. 

   I sighed. Why had mother acted so strange? What if there were other people in the world? Then I remembered. Mother had said that tomorrow morning she would bring me somewhere and show me something. Just as I was drifting off into the deep abyss of sleep, I heard a noise downstairs.  It sounded as if someone were entering the house! Probably just mother moving around in her room, I thought. I relaxed. It was nothing, nothing at all.

   My eyes flew open. Sun was streaming in through the windows, casing a golden glow across the room. It was warm, and the birds were twittering out side. But why did I feel a sense of foreboding? I slowly rose out of bed and made my way to the stairs that led downstairs. Thats weird. Mother usually made pancakes on Sunday, so why could I not smell the fumes coming up to my room? I mean, that is the one thing that can get me out of bed in three seconds flat. I made my way down the stairs and into our small, but cozy kitchen.