Lying awake in bed I look over at the digital clock and its bright red digits, taunting me, reads 2:15. I think about all the garbage I've been going through after just the third week into my senior year. My mother had received several calls home from my teachers about he daughter Endelyn, me, starting arguments during the school day. For this, my mother had unfairly punished me. She took away my use of the car as well as my phone and I'm not allowed to go anywhere except school and the grocery store. I don't care too much, but still, that's harsh. I mean, the arguments weren't even bad, I was just defending a sophomore whom some classic mean girls were picking on.
Just as I start to fall into sleep, I hear a loud crash and what sounds like a human curse. I go, stumbling out of bed, to investigate. As I walk through my room I trip over a pile of yesterday's laundry, not seeing it through my thick, curly brown hair. I head out of my small, blue bedroom and into the hallway. Quietly, I pass my parents' room pausing for a minute to listen to father's clamorous snores. Then I continue down the stairwell. My heart races as I hear the light patter of footsteps coming from somewhere near the back of the house on the first floor.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs I weakly call out, "H-hello? Anyone there?" I catch sight of a tall, black haired blue-eyed boy around my age freeze in his tracks. My eyes go wide and I am about to scream just as he swifly dashes over and covers my mouth with his cold hand.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Now, I am going to move my hand away, don't shout" says the intruder. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house during the dead of night," I demand. "Come outside with me and I'll explain everything," promises the boy. "Yeah right, I'll just follow a friendly intruder outside and all will be fine," I spit out sarcastically. "No, please believe me," begs the infuriating trespasser. "Why?" The boy pulls out a glowing blue stone about the size of my fist hanging on a thin leather cord from under his shirt. There appears to be a flowing substance inside the stone. I look at it, my curiosity gaining the best of me. "Because you'll want to know about this. I'm Nathan by the way."
YOU ARE READING
The stones
AcakA story I started a year and a half ago. I don't think I'll continue it, but I may. A girl is on a journey with her friends to recover the Fire Stone before the world crumbles.
