New story I had to write with Language Arts, but I really liked it, so I thought I'd post it!
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Walking home from school in the pouring rain in the middle of September along a rarely used road in Maine was never fun. Especially when it was because your friend had ditched you to go to the movies with her boyfriend and conveniently forgot to tell you once again.
“Becca!” I groaned again, wishing she was here so she could really hear what I was saying, and pulled the hood of my yellow rain jacket even tighter around me, “Why did you have to do this again?” I could almost hear her apologizing—she had pulled stunts like this so many times I practically had her speech memorized:
“Hope, I'm so sorry!” she would say, “I completely forgot, you know I've been wanting to see that movie lately. I'm sorry you had to walk home in the rain! I'll make it up to you, I promise.” She would then offer to bring me out to the movies or buy me those really cool Converse I had been wanting for a while, and I would forgive her, blinded by the allure of new things, as it was easy to be.
Sighing unhappily, I listened to my worn furry brown boots squelching with a sickening sound against the soaked ground, waterlogged and dripping. I wriggled my toes uneasily inside them, holding back another bout of shivers that threatened to overcome me. I chanced a glance up through the rain, blinking furiously to clear away the wetness. I bit back a growl of anger as I contemplated walking two more miles down this road, this darned road that was my least favorite part of the walk from school to my house. It was long, rarely used, and lined by towering trees on either side. The tree, weren't friendly trees. They were dark and cold, the rain dripped with a constant pattering off the slim needles. Shivering, I pulled my coat tighter around me yet again, and noticed that it was uncharacteristically cold for this time of year;it had to be under thirty degrees. The sky hung low and heavy, with a menacing dark look to it, and I was almost surprised that it wasn't snowing instead of raining. Sighing, I picked up my pace a little, internally cursing the teachers that had assigned me so much homework. My backpack felt like somebody had poured cement into it and let it harden inside.
“Hope!” a high-pitched voice squealed in my ear, a familiar voice.
“Ah! Miranda?” I jumped, looking around wildly. My six year old sister's girlish giggle echoed in my ear.
“Hope, Hope, Hope. Hopey Hopey Hoppy Hoppy Hope,” her voice was sing-song, like this was all a game. I turned on the spot, my gaze darting around, trying to locate where the voice had been coming from. What was she doing out here?
“Miranda, baby, where are you? Come on, we can play hide-and-seek at home.” Her voice laughed again. A tap on my shoulder had me whirling around, and something grabbed my foot and yanked it out from under me. Falling on my stomach I let out a muffled oof, clutching my jaw and wincing in pain—I would be picking gravel out of my chin for the next week.
“Gosh, 'Randa, this isn't funny. What are you doing out in the rain? Where's Lacy?” Lacy was the babysitter that my mother (who was a nurse and worked late hours) hired to watch Miranda for days like these, when I was late from school. She was three years younger than my age of seventeen. I bit my lip and rolled over onto my back, shrugging my backpack off my shoulders and getting up, staggering a little. Squinting through the rain, I searched for Miranda, wondering why the heck she would be outside, so far from home, and (as far as I could tell) without Lacy.
“Hope? What are you looking for, Hope?” her voice was light and lilting. I turned again and screamed when I saw her standing behind me, my hands flying up to meet my mouth. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What's wrong?”
