"Admit it Darla, you're falling for the weirdo." Tiffany teases her friend as they approach a vacant table in the cafeteria. Darla lowers her eyes as a crimson red forms on her cheeks, making her friend to look at her with a somewhat surprised expression.
"Oh my god you really are! When were you gonna tell......."
"Fine , fine , I might be. I don't see why you should make such a big deal of it, I mean , a few weeks ago you were head over the heels f......"
"You know what, let's not go there. lets just stick to you and your weirdo boyfriend, what's his name again?"
"His name's Samuel, and stop calling him that" Darla playfully slaps her on the back, " I wanna hear you say it, Sa-mu-el" she continues, tickling her.
"Alright, alright stop", Tiffany finally gives in after a minute of persuasive tickling," his name is Samuel, and he is not a weirdo, ok, happy?"
"Yeah, a little " she admits, her face lighting up. They then bide each other goodbye, promising to meet at the gate when school's out.
******************
Uncomfortable silence fills the air as Claire Martins and her daughter sit in the living room of the Martins home. The young girl keeps stealing nervous glances at her seemingly frustrated mother. She appears to be deeply engaged in the task task she is currently occupied with, at times tapping her forehead irritatedly. Darla is contemplating asking her of what it is that has gotten her so worked up. Knowing her mother well, she finally decides not to. The telephone then rings, providing her relief from the intense atmosphere evident in the room . Claire sends her daughter a deathly glare, as if daring her to precede her to the telephone. She ungracefully picks it up and places it on her left ear.
"Hello, you're speaking to Claire Martins, may I ask who is it?"
"You sound so sexy when you're being polite"
Claire then signals for her daughter to head out the door in a not so polite manner. Darla, observant as she is, instantly notes the sudden inexplicable shift in the woman's demeanour upon answering the call. She then heads out the door with a mocking smile on her face. She fidgets with the front yard swing she used to play with as a child, recalling the wonderful moments when her father would sneak up from behind and push the swing so high, that she thought she would touch the sky. Tears fill her eyes whenever she recalls such. She watches the birds silhouetted against the reddish orange sky as the sun dissolves in the distant horizon. Her father's untimely death left a gloomy void in her heart and the house cold and empty. The occasional "stop being such a child" and "quit staring at me" are the only content of conversation between them. It is in those moments that Claire shows any form of emotion, mostly it is the monotonous "pass me the ketchup" or "close the door behind you" that she utters to her daughter. Seeing that it is getting rather dark, she stalls purposely, awaiting the sound of her mother's concerned voice calling her back in the house. After a grueling, bone chilling half an hour she finally heads back inside, heading straight to her room upon entering.
***************************************
Yet again as he lies on his bed with his eyes gazing at the ceiling, Samuel's thoughts drift towards Darla Martins. He wonders how such a beautiful creature would ever speak to him, let alone fall in love with him. An inevitable smile forms on his face, but fades away quickly when the door is violently jerked open. Two silhouetted figures stand before him, one of them, of short stature, gives a horrific laugh which sends shivers down his spine. He opens his mouth in an attempt to speak, but no words come out. Utter horror overwhelms him, such that he fails to make the slightest of movement.
