Twisted

Chapter One

Chapter One 

"That'll be fifty twenty-eight, sir." mumbled 17-year-old Megan Day to a frowning old man with a miniscule Yorkie in his hands. Somewhat disgusted with the fact that people will spend so much money on their pets, Megan handed the man his change. He adjusted his dog, grabbed his bags, and stalked out of Petco. She sighed. Only ten more minutes, Megan miserably thought, until I can escape from the clutches of this horrid place. The bored teenager drummed her fingers on the smudged checkout counter, counting down the minutes until she could lock up and collapse on her old, worn sofa back at her run-down apartment.

Megan Day was... interesting, to say the least. She was of average height, about five foot seven. She had a slim, almost delicate figure, as if you felt that she was going to blow away at the slightest stirring of a breeze. Her fiery, spirited personality, however, dismissed any thoughts af weakness from first impressions. Megan was eerily beautiful, but not the standard tall, blonde, and tan idea of beauty. She had pale skin, for a start, almost luminescent, with a dash of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She beared long, dark chocolate curls that reached halfway down her back. Megan claimed they were virtually untamable in the mornings. One curious thing about this brunette teenager was her eyes. They were impossibly ice blue, and were capable of producing a piercing gaze that was unnerving at times. Her voice possessed the grace of a ballet dancer, and when she sang, it was incredible. Her voice was completely one of a kind, with an underlying quality that many trained singers would be jealous over. As of now, however, Megan was ticking down the seconds until her shift at the desolate building would end. She huffed and blew a curl that had somehow escaped from the haphazard braid she had put it in that morning. "I suppose," she mused out loud, "that if I am to sit here doing nothing, I might as well make the best of it." Her mother had drilled this into her as a young child, as well as many other "important" lessons that would supposedly help her later in life. Megan mentally ran through her scales, and opened her small mouth with the intention of singing her favorite aria, Think Of Me, when a yawn suddenly overtook her. She stretched her arms in a catlike style before collapsing onto the small stool that served as her chair. Checking her watch, Megan realized it was time to go. She hopped off of the stool, grabbed the keys, locked the store's entrance, and sprinted to her white Toyota.

"You have a pretty voice." Megan yelped and spun around to face the owner of the high-pitched voice. She relaxed when she realized it was only a little girl, no more than six. "Umm...thank you." said Megan as she nodded curtly. "My name's Felicity Anne, by the way." said the girl. Wondering who in their right mind would name a child Felicity Anne, Megan replied,"My name's Megan. If you don't mind me asking, what the heck are you doing alone in a deserted parking lot at ten o'clock at night?" The girl's wide green eyes flashed. "I came to find you." Megan was more than a little creeped out with her response. Shivering in the cold November air, Megan turned around to grab a heavier coat than her current windbreaker, which was doing nothing about the bite in the wind that chilled her to the bone. Megan turned around again, only to find the mysterious girl gone. She did a quick three sixty to confirm her initial thought. "Okay then." thought a now thoroughly disturbed Megan. Mentally berating herself for drinking three coffees earlier, she dismissed it to be a figment of her wild imagination. She wrapped the coat around her tighter, and climbed into her car. The engine purred to life, and she pealed out of the lonely parking lot. Once on the highway, Megan let her mind drift away into its thoughts.

The next second, a car was hurtling towards her, head on. Megan shrieked and jerked the steering wheel to the right, narrowly missing the other vehicle. The Toyota veered off the road and down a ravine. The car tumbled over and over down the steep ditch, each jolt punctuated by one of Megan's screams. It finally came to a lurching stop at the bottom, and Megan was thoroughly dazed. Her thoughts were slow and her actions came slower. She fumbled with the seatbelt before struggling out of the car. Blood trickled down the right side of her face, its source somewhere above her delicate eyebrow. Megan managed to take a few halting steps before collapsing in an ungraceful heap on the frostbitten ground. She lay still and closed her eyes, albeit somewhat painfully, and welcomed the darkness that washed over her. ****************************  

The dark figure stood tall over the young girl, his cloak billowing out around him in the frigid breeze, making his silhouette appear as if he were a dark angel. He gazed at the girl that lay collapsed at his feet. Even in the pitch black night, his unusually night adapted eyes scrutinized her appearance. He couldn't make out her face, considering it was hidden by her arm that was thrown over her head. The imposing man kneeled down to pick up the unconscious teenager. Despite the warnings his mind was giving him, he stood up and started walking through the dark woods, the girl carried bridal-style in his muscular arms. ******************************* 

Alice Tabin glanced around the kitchen, waiting impatiently for her best friend to pick up the phone. After she was sent to voicemail for the third time, Alice rolled her eyes and left yet another message, detailing that Megan Day needs to return her call or else. Shrugging her friend's absence off as her being at her stupid job, Alice tossed her phone onto her pale pink bedspread. She headed towards her bathroom to take a much-needed shower. She paused to look at herself in the mirror. She observed that her ruler-straight blonde hair was still lying flat as a pancake on her head. Her dull mud colored eyes stared back at her. Alice absentmindedly twirled a piece of the thin hair around her long fingers. Turning away from her reflection, Alice stepped into the shower and let the warm water run over her. One shower later, Alice could be found on her bed in shorts and a too-short shirt from when she was in sixth grade. Untangling her damp straw-like hair with her fingers, Alice mentally ran through the ballet she was to perform at her recital. Unlike her best friend, Alice was organized and also a year older than Megan. They had met when they discovered their shared love for theatre and the fine arts. Alice reached for her cell phone. Her slender hand hovered above it before she decided that forty text messages and three phone calls were enough. She reached for her worn and dog-eared book that lay on the pink nightstand next to her bed. Settling in, Alice lost herself in the magic realm of the book and soon forgot all of her troubles. *********************** A/N: . This is my first story ever here on Wattpad, so I'm not entirely sure about how well it will be received. But I will certainly do my best! I hope you enjoy it! And yes, I'm painfully aware of how short it was. It will get better, I swear!.