Shadows (Harry Styles)

Chapter One

Chapter One - Ella

The unusually bright light peeking through the blinds covering the window of my bedroom pried its way past my eyelids. Since February started, the days have been getting longer and the sun rose earlier. I gave in and opened my eyes to glance at the digital clock sitting on my bedside table, its red numbers read half past six. I shot up in bed, shocked at how late I'd slept in.

An incessant banging on the wall from downstairs caused my sore eyes to widen, my brain now fully alert. Sliding my feet into worn out slippers sitting at the foot of my bed, I shuffled out of my bedroom and found my way through the now silent hallways and into the kitchen.

"Morning sunshine," my father greeted me, planting a kiss on my forehead and a box of Mini Wheats in my hand. I blinked in surprise for a half second as he gracefully danced away.

"What's got you so bright and early this morning?" I questioned, rummaging around in the cupboards for a bowl.

"Nothing really, I just feel... buzzed."

I snorted at his lame attempt to use a word that only people my age should be using.

"I'll switch the television on for you before I head out," he called back, disappearing into the hallway.

See, my dad is a professor. I like to compare him to Timmy Turner's dad in the Fairly Odd Parents in the episode where Timmy wishes his dad was a genius. If you don't know what I'm talking about, he's basically a type of Einstein, but toned down quite a bit. He majored in English lit in college some years back and now enjoys teaching afternoon English classes at the university one city over. He's all I have now, though. After my mom died when I was young (almost not surprising) I've only had him and he's only had me.

"Be safe Fiorella!" The rattling of keys and the slamming of a door being shut could be heard as my father left the house. I sighed at the use of my full name.

Before leaving the room after finishing my cereal, I stuck my dishes in the kitchen sink, the spoon making that ringing sound that I always hated as I dropped it into the metallic bin.

I shut the tv off, only to turn on the set in my bedroom before making my way into the bathroom for a shower. As ancient as this sounds, I listened to the news every morning before school. You never know when something important could pop up.

I quickly stripped down and entered the shower, the steamy water immediately scalding my skin. As I washed myself from head to toe, I listened wholeheartedly for any information that could be relevant.

Switching the handle to the off position, I gathered my hair into a turban with a towel and used another to wrap around my clean body.

I dressed in my bedroom, the endless droning of news reporters filling my ears. After fully preparing for school, which included drying my hair, applying just eyeliner for today, and touching up my outfit.

God I sound like such a girl right now.

Slinging my tote bag over my arm, I reached over to shut the tv off before a certain news story caught my eye.

A woman wearing a navy blue sweater and a haircut that clearly did not suit her face shape looked into the camera with her piercing blue eyes, right at me. "On the evening of January 30th, 2014, a young teenage girl was the victim of a fatal incident late at night. Police say the 17 year old was apparently walking home along from the local library in Kinnock, Washington, when she was struck repeatedly in the head with a metal weapon, then killed not long after. Reporter Brandon McClure is on the scene."

My eyebrows furrowed. I'd visited that same library that same night, and even walked along that road... Holy shit. I turned up the volume to listen more closely.

A young man in his twenties appeared on the screen in a bright yellow parka. He couldn't have been much older than me. He sported a fake smile, a microphone held up to his lips. When you're at the scene of a murder, are you supposed to look that happy? A few police cars with flashing red and blue lights could spotted in the background, and yellow police tape was up between two buildings.

"Thanks, Jenna. Investigators say the teen was hit the first time around eleven at night. After a brief struggle, he knocked her unconscious. She was found around six the next morning by a lost tourist passing through. The teen's death was estimated at about one thirty AM, the cause being three gunshot wounds; two to the chest and one in the stomach. Police are still trying to find the person causing this tragedy. No witnesses were present."

I pressed the off button on the tv before he could say anything more and backed away as if the misshapen box could hurt me. I racked my brain, calculating what time I'd left the library to return home. I was in the middle of estimating the times when a thought occurred to me.

There was that boy, in the alley. What was his name? Did he even tell me his name? I wondered, panicking, if he had anything to do with this girl.

Because if he did... then that could mean I did, too.

A/N: So sorry for never updating, I forgot I had written this. Hopefully I can still work out a plan for this story. And I apologize for the length of this chapter, I know it sucks. But please vote and maybe comment so I know if you want me to continue writing or whatever. Thanks :)

~ Amanda