Ce n'est pas une pipe: A TFIOS fan fiction

Chapter 6: Time Doesn't Fly It Walks

I open my eyes to the sound of screams and blue plasic.

"Shut up." I say my thoughts aloud. As I do so, the screaming stops. The screaming was me.

Oh my god. Thank god! Oh my god! That was a dream! No, a nightmare. Dreams aren't like that. Dreams have happy endings.

I sat upright, and doing so, hit my head against the hard material above me. My hand shot up to my head, but really didn't help. I slowly scooted torwards the opening of the tube slide and looked out. The sky was pitch black, with just the moon for light.

"Grandma will be worried sick." I said to the darkness of the night. If I went home now, I'd have to wake her up, and she would be even more angry. I definitely didn't want that. I would have to find a place to sleep. Or wander around. It looked like it was pretty late. Time flies when you're having fun, right?

After what seemed like many hours, I learned that in the middle of the night, time doesn't fly by.

I had been spending the last 4 hours walking around the neighborhood. No one was out exept for me, and all of the lights were off exept for a few streetlights.

I continued on my third loop around town when I saw a light flick on. I had no idea who could be awake at this hour, only that it couldn't be good.

Anyone who say a teenage girl walking by herself in the middle of the night would be suspicious. If I saw myself walking around at this hour, I would be, too.

I froze to the sound of footsteps. The person was coming. Oh my god! The peson was coming.

I dove into a small bush, making a loud brushing noise. The branches scratched my face, and I felt blood. That didn't matter though. I needed to hide. I would have to explain to grandma this on top of everything else.

A beam of light shot over the bush, and a scared voice called out, "Who are you?"

I stayed silent. I couldn't let my wearabouts be known. I directed my eyes through a hole in the thick leaves and say a boy around my age looking around. He was lit dimly by the flashlight, and I could barely see his face.

"Hello?" he called out again.

I stayed quiet. I couldn't give away where I was. What if he called the cops? Or told grandma! I couldn't let him be the one to have that choice. That choice was mine.

The boy kept looking around, frantic. His eyes darted around, and sweat started trickling down his forehead.

After what seemed like an eternity, the boy went back inside. Once the door shut, I scrambled out of the bush. There were many cuts on my face, some of them bleeding. This was the least of my worries, now, though.

I winced as a branch made a loud rustling noise. I ran, knowing that the boy may have heard me. I wasn't exactly quiet.

I had gotten thirty or so feet
When I had the guts to look back. To my horror, the boy was on his porch, staring right at me.

Before, in the bush, the branches were concealing his face. I couldn't really make out who he was. Now, with nothing to conceal my view, I saw who he was.

The boy was Noah Calot, the school's "bad boy."

Oh no.