TheBookwormWhoLived - Short Stories

Shadows

Slinging my bag over my shoulders, I walk out of the school gates.

I has to stay late again, thanks to my goddamn Science teacher who gave me detention for my pink hair.

"Our school does not allow unnatural hair colours," He sniffed disdainfully, the papery skin around his nose wrinkling.

"You have broken the schools rules once again, Tori, and you shall receive a detention for that."

I rolled my eyes and muttered under by breath just so he could hear, "I'll dye it back to brown when I get home."

"You better, young lady."

As if.

In fact, I had to stay so late, that the sun was disappearing over the rolling mountains in the distance. Shadows of indigo and black crept out from tall trees, twisting into the strangest shapes.

I walk around the corner to the parking space, but my little Honda's wheels are deflated and slashed.

"Oh, but who cares that I'm late? Certainly not my Mum and Dad!" I yell angrily into the basically empty parking lot. Waking over to my silver car I kick the sagged wheels in desperation. Fat lot of use this will do.

Letting out a stream of profanities, I decide that the only option is to walk home.

Our sleepy town only has one bus route, but the last bus went ages ago. It seems like the fates are against me today.

Oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do.

I salute my faithful old car, knowing I'd see it tomorrow anyway, and head out of the school grounds.

The shadows have leapt out longer than before and feeling uncomfortable I pick up the pace. Mum is staying late at work, like usual and Dad is off at a "business meeting".

Which is code for a day spent flirting with the hot secretary until they're under the sheets.

My shoes make an eerie noise in the quiet of the dusk, almost like they're two pairs...

I turn my head slowly, but breath a sigh of relief that no one is to be seen.

The shadows creep further and further onto the path, and with a spark the streetlights flick on. This walk is talking longer than it should.

I pick up the pace, but just as I round the corner into my street I see a flash of black.

Just a shadow, just a shadow...

But did shadows gleam with a sudden silver light?

It goes as quick as it came, a slice of bright.

There's a sound of metal sliding against leather and THERE.

In the corner of my eye, I see the flash.

By now I'm running for my life, my house just a few more metres...

The black shape follows me, flitting from one side of the road to the other.

With a gasp of relief, I race to the front door and jam the keys in there. Twisting it open so fast it almost flies off the hinges, I leap inside into darkness.

I made it

Sweat runs down my face and for a moment a twinge of annoyance shoots through my body as I imagine my mascara dripping on my cheeks.

A 17 year old girl doesn't really want to look like a member of the Black Veil Brides, does she?

I dump my bag in the hallway and race to the kitchen for a tissue.

The box is sitting on the counter, so I rip out a tissue and dab it on my cheeks.

I was right; my face must've been soaking in black as it now stains the tissue, looking almost like blood.

Sighing, I walk over to the window and peer out onto the street. There's nobody in sight, thank goodness. I'm known for a wild imagination, so the black blob was probably just a really, really large cat and the flash was just its claws.

Sweeping my gaze over the street, I decide whatever it was is gone and out of my life for good.

But did I lock the back door?

Nervously, I turn around to hear the sliding door quietly open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amanda walks to school.

A smirk is plastered on her face, she wonders what that goth freak did when she found her tyres slashed.

Probably got a ride on her witches broom home.

The only trouble about walking to school for Amanda was the route.

The little emo freak lived in the street next to hers, and unfortunately there wasn't any other streets to turn into.

Imagine what her friends would gossip about if they saw Queen Bee Amanda ten metres around the outcast?

But she put up with it every day, and luckily she hadn't come in contact with the pyscho... Yet.

Amanda passes the house where the goth lived nervously, relief rushing through her.

That is until, she walks past a bush where a lock of pink hair creeps out, covered in slick blood.