Entries
~~~1~~~
Addiction: True Story
It was dark, the room dusty and cold. "Roger?" Angelina called out, looking for her husband. "I'm back." Angelina turned on the light, to be horrified by the amount of bottles around the room. "Roger, I've been hiding your problem from our kids and now I can't anymore." Angelina shifted her weight to her other foot, seeing some motion under the sheets.
"The boys will find out when they get back from visiting their friends back in Colorado." Angelina put her hands to her mouth, scared of what might come next."They moved away from their best friends because you needed a job. Look at you. Drunk and half asleep." Angelina put her hands on her hips, quickly stepping away as her husband sat up.
"I don't need this from you." He stood up, causing Angelina to step back. "Get out of my house." He pushed her, sending her against the back wall. "Excuse me, but who's the one making house payments?" Angelina pushed him back.
"The rent from MY house in Colorado." He stood up straighter, more than a foot taller than her. "I would advise you to leave." Roger pushed her out of their bedroom, closing and locking the door. "I should've thrown him out ages ago." Angelina called her best friend, Amber, and told her what just happened.
"Come stay with me." Amber protested,"I'll get your room ready now." Amber had hung up. "I hope the kids will understand..." Angelina grabbed a family picture and left the house, getting into her minivan, and driving the mile between Amber's house and her own.
As she drove up, a parking spot was open, and Amber was standing at the door, holding her dog, Bambi, a toy poodle. "I'm glad that you could trust me enough with housing you." Amber set Bambi down, who ran to Angelina, hopping up into her outstreched arms. "It's nice to see you." Angelina put Bambi down, grabbed what luggage she had quickly packed, and walked into Amber's house.
Amber's house always smelled of cinnimon. There was no reason why it smelled like cinnimon, but it always reminded Angelina of Christmas.
"The boys get back Thursday," Angelina said looking at her phone. "so we have five days." Angelina looked at the family picture, seeing her two sons' faces, she smiled. "We'll get through this."
~~~2~~~
Divided
Are you going to be like this all night? his voice chimed from inside her mind. Mia glanced up from the book she was pretending to read. He watched her with a blank expression. He was five foot nine, rather short for his kind. His raven black hair shaded his deep violet eyes and cast shadows over the sharp angles of his jaw. His lips held no sign of a smile or any of the sorts. His arms were firmly crossed over his broad chest. His posture almost alarmed her, until she spotted the scar on the nape of his neck. She smirked behind the paper wall she was holding. His eyebrow rose. He knew what she was thinking, he always did. Even though she could have prevented it, she never bothered to.
His lips slowly curved to form a maniacal grin as he pushed off of the grey stone wall he had been leaning on. Quickly burying herself back into the book, she chastised herself for staring at him, yet again. He watched her closely as he took a step towards the ivory chair she had chosen.
Come on. It wasn’t that bad. His voice gave her the chills as it rang through her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something other than him. She had very little success.
You can’t keep ignoring me, Love. I’m bound to you, remember? Of course she remembered. That’s why she was so angry with him. He never fully explained what that meant. She slowly opened her eyes and wasn’t the least bit surprised when he was close enough to kiss her. She mentally slapped herself for choosing that phrase, but it was a bit too late. He grinned, lowered her book with one finger and gently pressed his lips to hers. It was soft, quick and left her memory in tangles. He tricked her, lied to her, and now she could never be rid of him. Not that she really wanted to be.
“You need to go.” her words came out so softly, they were almost a whisper. He brushed a piece of her copper red hair away from her face. His movement gave her another burst of chills. He was always so cold. He straightened and stepped back. His smirk faded a little and he nodded once.
“As you wish.” This time his words echoed through the library, causing a few heads to turn in their direction, but he was already gone. Mia shook her head and placed the book in her lap. She was so sure about everything. She always had been. But Seven, she never knew what to do about him. If only he was her kind, or even on her plane for that matter, maybe then things would be easier, but of course, that wasn’t the case. Seven tricked her into binding herself to him and vise versa. They would always belong to each other, but would never belong together. If Mia would have known what she was getting herself into when she started talking to him, but how was she supposed to know that the guy of her dreams didn’t really exist? Well, at least not to others. He existed to her and always would.
Mia closed the book and climbed off the chair. She walked up a few aisles to find the right place for the book, but gave up and placed it on a partially empty shelf. She walked to the exit and nodded a goodbye to the librarian before slipping out the door.
Mia was a small girl at five foot five and weighed around one-hundred twenty pounds. In the breeze her hair fluttered loosely around her face, framing her vibrant green eyes. Eyes which were a dull grey-green before Seven arrived
~~~3~~~
The Hunt
A Mild Horror Story
Fog shrouded the forest like a blanket. Shapes, almost invisible in the gloom, flitted through the branches. The hunt was beginning.
Malon walked through the mist, alert for the slightest noise. People had been disappearing in these woods for weeks now, but he was not going to be one of them. He had brought a sturdy steel pipe, ready for anything. But this mist was so creepy...
A branch snapped behind him, and he jumped. Whirling, he raised his pipe... at nothing. Shaking off the sudden rush of adrenaline, he kept walking. If only the fog would lift!
Another branch snapped, followed by a heavy tread. Malon broke out in a cold sweat, and turned. His eyes bugged out as he saw his stalker through a break in the mist. Screaming, he ran.
He ducked behind a tree and prayed. The footsteps paused, then continued. Malon sighed in relief- and froze. It was right in front of him!
"Oh god! No! NOOOO!"
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That afternoon, a pair of campers found him, slumped against a tree. He was taken for an autopsy, and the results were puzzling. They couldn't find any cause of death. It seemed he had died of fright.
