Shadowed Life

Chapter 1

Huff….Huff…..Huff…..my breathing becomes heavy as I run down yet another path in this neverending maze. I’ve been here for days…hours…weeks…seconds? Time doesn’t exist in this dream, only fear, fear and these large stone walls. When will someone throw down a red string and lead me to the exit?

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

My alarm clock rings incessantly in my ear, causing an end to my nightmare and a start to my mad rush for school. Not that anyone shall miss me if I miss a day or two. My friends are false, also whether it

“Ehhh this sucks….” I crumple yet another sheet into a ball and throw it into the already overflowing trashcan. “I shouldn’t have taken that stupid nap,” I mutter with only one day left until my due date with absolutely nothing written.Usually the ideas flow freely, but for some reason, when I need them the most, they decide to get stuck on the path between my mind and the keys my fingers keep uselessly drumming on in an attempt to come up with a genius idea.

“Think, think, think……” I massage my temple yet again, and put the pen to the paper.

Who are you to judge me? I…. The paper is crumpled.

I stare through the window, out into the empty world, its darkness echoing the pains in my soul….The paper is crumpled.

I know not why I live in thi…..The paper is crumpled.

I sit here, wondering....wondering...wondering

"Wondering why the hell I'm writing this stupid story," I grumbled, crumpling my paper into a ball, I threw it, bouncing off the rim of the trash can onto the floor, like several had before.

I stretched and looked around at the room. Average bedroom-computer, desk, bed, couple of chairs-everything needed for your everyday student. Unfortunately, I wasn't the everyday student, and this little room had only things I never felt the need for. Not that I wasn't grateful for finally being to get a good night's sleep on a decent bed, but the price came with it I wasn't sure was worth it. My freedom in exchange for three meals a day, and a place to stay for the night. Still, even if I didn't really find it necessary, my brother did, and I wanted him to be happy, so I complied with a smile on my face. My brother and I shared a two bedroom apartment, our only visitor being my uncle who would stop in on occasion. Two knocks resound on the door, and I look up in surprise as my brother opens the door

"You done with your English thing yet?" he asks, a slight smirk on his face. Without helping myself, I glance at the papers scattered on the floor near the trashcan, before giving him a glare.

"I'm not used to schoolwork. I've only been going for three weeks," I say crossing my arms, sticking my tongue out for good measure. Ok, so maybe a little immature, but hey, what I said was true. Never gone to school. Never really believed I'd need to.

"Well, you've been going for three weeks, you should be able to catch up fast," he said after a slightly awkward pause. HE had been going for two years. HE was a bit of a genius. Or, rather, he knew how to 'recall' the answers on all of the tests. I threw a pillow at him, but he dodged with ease. "Come on, see if you can't finish up. If you do I'll go down to the ring with you," he said with a grin. "Maybe you'll beat me for once. Although judging by that throw, probably not," he said closing the door just before a textbook slammed into the door where his head just was.

"I'm gonna beat you this time!" I yelled after him, and I could hear him chuckling. I rolled my eyes, and looked back at the empty page. I needed to write a short story for English. It was due tomorrow. We had gotten it three weeks ago. I hadn't started... Oh well. That's what you get for throwing a kid off the streets into a prep school with only half a years refinement time in between. Luckily, my classmates were idiots, and didn't sense there being any oddities in me other than the fact I never invited anyone home. I sighed, and put my pen to page again.

"YO! Ebony, get your ass down here! I've been calling for five minutes! Foods gonna get cold!" my brother yelled up to me.

"Yeah all right!" I called back down, smirking. I wonder what his teachers would say if they saw their perfect student talking like that. THIS was why I never brought anyone home with me. That...and the fact that we did have several knives in the house. Along with its...slightly unique decorating style. It couldn't be called cluttered exactly, but it was certainly...messy. For example, while my room had average things in it, a couple things weren't as common. Instead of a tv, or bookshelf, my room had several interesting....distinguishing features...on the walls Such as a couple of holes caused by annoyance (whether the holes were made fists or knives varied though). But even besides that, I could decorate my room however I wanted. Band posters on the black walls, red skulls and speakers painted around the corner, and some red splattered across the wall for good measure. Cliché perhaps, but it certainly matched my mood. I smirked and placed the textbook I had thrown onto my desk before walking downstairs.

My brother stood there looking at me. "Took you long enough," he muttered under his breath, putting a couple of plates onto the table. Little known (and very surprising) secret-my brother loves to cook. Its a passion of his. And he's pretty damn good at it too. I sat down at the table, my stomach giving an appreciative grumble as my brother threw on the news. It was really the only thing we bothered watching-except when one of us needed to learn more about some crappy tv show to keep the cover among our classmates. I breathed in deep, still loving the fact that warm food had went from a luxury to a daily thing. I grabbed my fork and dug in, glancing up at the news as I did so.

"Midnight Massacre" was the title below the muted newscaster.

"How many?" I asked.

"5 confirmed, 2 injured," he responded, not needing to ask what I was referring too. I smirked, but I knew my eyes remained hard.

"Obviously not a massacre."

"Obviously." This was the end of our conversation tonight, with each of us lost in our own thoughts, our own varying memories from the past-the only forbidden topic between us. That and our parents. But as much as we hated discussing the those two intertwining subjects, they were main topic of most thoughts that filled our heads. We finished eating while we read the subtitles beneath the smiling woman going on about the inhuman murders of these innocent people.

"Nobody's that innocent. Nobody." I muttered to myself.

"But Sarah comes pretty damn close. Don't forget to take out your extensions," my brother said cleaning up the dishes. I rolled my eyes at him before walking back into my room. I glanced at the empty page on my desk, and frowned. I suppose I would have to just play the "innocent girl sucking up to teacher" card in english tomorrow. I sighed.

"At least it will help with sarah's identity," I muttered to myself, getting into pajamas. Not that she needed it. Sarah was flawless in every way. She also was a complete fake-an act. But really, when it comes down to it, who doesn't have an act when around other people. I sighed and rubbed my head before slowly unclipping the extensions from my dark hair. Large green eyes stared back at me through the mirror-my only defining feature. If only I could have the strength these eyes seemed to give off. If only I could forget about the pain these eyes never seemed to have experienced. I sighed, and allowed myself a moment of self pity before shaking it off, and pulling myself together. I glance at the bed, and fall down on top of it, knowing I was far from falling asleep. I sighed one last time, and close my eyes sending a silent prayer to whatever being might be up there to not let my life be screwed up any further than it already was. I don't know whether the ridiculing laugh came from my imagination or not, but the point was made. Somehow, my life was going to get a lot worse before it became better. This was my last thought, before I was swept up by blessed sleep, and lulled into unconsciousness.