"RAVEN!" I heard from downstairs.
"What Mom?! I told you already, I have to get this project finished!"
My life is pretty much normal for a teenager, except that I see odd creatures that nobody else does. It's been that way since the day I turned four years old.
"I know good and well that you are not doing a project! Now get down here, dinner is ready!"
I dragged myself off of my bed and walked out of my dark room, abandoning my "project". Seriously, like I would ever actually make an effort in school. I had better things in my life to concentrate on, like avoiding the strange things on the streets.
"Look who finally decided to join us tonight." said my oh-so-humorous father.
"Holy balls, Batman! I'm glad I did!" I said as I practically ran to my chair.
Sitting on the table was one of my favorite meals. Steak, baked potatoes, garlic bread, and sweet peas sat on my plate just begging to be eaten. I happily took my fork and knife as my Mom, Dad, and brother laughed at my enthusiasm.
"I knew you wouldn't want to miss out on dinner tonight. I thought it might drag you out of your cave for a while. We've barely seen you all week!"
"Please excuse my absence, dearest mother, for I've had important activities going on, that include avoiding my dearest brother Michael's presence, and doing nothing but staring at the ceiling." I said mockingly.
After dinner I washed the dishes to avoid the nagging that was sure to come if I put it off until tomorrow. I trudged up the stairs back to my room and set my Jack Skellington alarm clock for six o'clock. No matter how much I hated it, I still had to go to school and endure the slow torture that I call learning. Now snuggled down under my black comforter, I awaited the usual giggling noises that found there way to my window from the street below.
I was walking. Walking down a path in the woods beyond the familiar trees that I've sat under so many times before to escape everything. Then I stopped for a moment and listened. What was that? It sounded like a kid.. I chased the playful laughter of what seemed to come from a little girl. Suddenly I crashed through the bushes into a clearing, and standing in the middle was the cutest little girl I'd ever seen in my life. She was pretty much the opposite of me, with her blonde hair in perfect little curls, bright pink cheeks, and a white dress that came down to her knees. She couldn't have been older than five or six. I approached her slowly assuring her that I wouldn't hurt her.
The girl laughed again, and then began to change. Her small figure started to grow, ripping the dress she wore to shreds. Wings burst from her back and flicked. The small girl that I had chased into the clearing had become one of the creatures I dread. She had a grin on her face now, and not a friendly one.
Before I could react, she shot out her arm and dug her abnormally long nails into my shoulder, drawing blood. I let out a scream and tried to pry myself from her grip, but she only held on tighter. Again, her laughter filled the air, but this time it was different. It was a laughter of triumph, and evil.
I bolted upright in bed, clutching my shoulder. The evil laughter still echoed in my head. I looked around my room, my eyes finally resting on my alarm clock. It was 5:37 in the morning, so I went ahead and got out of bed and into the shower. As I walked back into my room my toe slammed into the corner of my dresser.
"Shit! Ow. Ow. Ow!" I muttered to myself. What a great start to my day already.
I put on my black tube top, and dark blue mini skirt and checked my reflection in the mirror. My black hair was still damp and lifeless from my shower. Dad would freak if I tried to walk out the front door wearing this. I searched my closet for my favorite leather jacket and laid it on the chair in the corner of my room, then found a pair of black tights and pulled them on. Much better.
My name suits me well. My clothes are dark, my makeup black as night, my hair a pool of liquid coal. Even my room is dark. The walls are a dark shade of red, and all the furniture in my room is black. I'm not emo, or gothic, black is just my choice of color. You cant go wrong with black. People just never seem to understand it though, forever labeling me as the "weird goth chick" that sits in the back of the classroom. Not that I care anymore. Let them believe what they want, it wont change anything about me.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Darkness
Fantasy"My life is pretty much normal for a teenager, except that I see odd creatures that nobody else does. It's been that way since the day I turned four years old." - Raven
