The Search For Dakota Thompson

Chapter 1:

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Draft Entry One-
02/19/20
Calissa Thompson
Williamson Co' Publishers
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I've always believed in telling ones story, in a way that represents the narrator in the respective light of who they are as a person. But doing so isn't as easy as I thought.

I've been asked to write a story, one that could potentially be a best seller, and I feel as though I have the right story to tell, that will captivate all the readers my company would like me to.

My story.

In order for me to tell this story in such a mannor, we first must establish what a story is.

And the safest way I can phrase that is-stories are facts organized in such a way they are compelling as a whole.

Facts are what makes a true story one worth telling. So if its facts we're talking about lets begin with this; My entire life-from the age of 16 right up until around age 22-was a complete fuck up.

Nothing was right, for a while nothing was wrong. Until one night in March. After that, just about everything in my life changed. Just like I knew it would.

So, the first day of my life. The begining of my story, seems a safe place to begin. Don't you think?

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Incased in a room of black, I felt the bead of sweat fall from my hairline to my jaw. Getting hotter by the minute, I tried to move but I couldn't. I was frozen as I whitnessed the car speeding towards me.

This was no longer a dream. I was reliving a nightmare.

I braced myself for the impact, shutting my eyes tight, but nothing happened. The car disapeared.

I opened my eyes to find nothing but darkness. In a heartbeat, with no time to react, it was taken from me. I felt as if I was being pulled by an unsummountable force.

It stopped.

No longer was I alone, but with a boy. My age. No distinct features, just a simple silhouette, hidden amongst the infinate shaddows that surrounded us.

One thing I knew about such darkness, was how to identify when something was close to you and when something was a little father away.

The gun, held by the boy. That was close. Extremely close.

No where was I hurt. No, I was the complete opposite. I was, numb. Yet I distinctly felt the blood run to my lips. As metalic as the cold metal pressed flush to my forehead.

Somehow the space around me was dusty, my eyes watering, even though, I could still see him. A face, and voice I didn't yet recognise.

"You're the cause of all this Calissa. From the begining it was your fault. Are you sorry? Or proud? Of all you've become. You're a monster, as am I. Yet you deserve every horror. Every deamon you're forced to face. All of it." I couldn't see it, but I felt it. His hand tensing around the grip.

His last words rang in my ears like white noise-"Karmas a bitch, isn't is Thompson?"-surrounding my entire being, crushing me in its hold.

The room closed in. Disturbed silence, that's all I heard. The shaddows screamed in my ears as I tensed.

Bracing myself, time slowed down. Everything extended in the last few seconds I knew I didn't have. After what seemed like forever the trigger was pulled. Time. Darkness, and I, no longer exsistant.