Okay, guys, again. please, play the video while you read! I beg you!!!
KAYLA:
I whimpered as the person- guy or girl I couldn't tell- kept on prodding me down a hall- at least, I thought it was a hall. The entire mansion was dark and quiet- I had no idea where the rest of the guests were, and only the sound of my footsteps echoed in my ears.
That, and the whispering of my kidnapper, which had started ever since I was separated from Cal.
"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses."
"Please stop," I whispered, my hands clammy behind me. There was just something so terrifying of being whispered a children's lullaby, over and over again, in the dead of the night, whilst being pushed by somebody you don't even know. The breath of my prodder tickled the back of my neck, sending chills all over my body. Instead of shutting up, he- or she- started to increase his tempo, and it sounded as if the rhymes were building up into a very sinister chant.
"Way down yonder, down in the meadow,
There's a poor wee little lamby.
The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes,
The poor wee thing cried for her mammy."
I trembled, tears already pricking my eyes.
"Please, please stop!"
"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,
Go to sleepy little baby.
When you wake, you'll have cake,
And all the pretty little horses."
I started crying, the tears falling down my face.
Why did I come to the ball? Why?!
Suddenly, the chanting- and the prodding stopped as suddenly as it started. Before I could so much as compose myself, I heard the creak of the door and I found myself being pushed inside a dimly-lit room.
Behind me, the door shut, and I heard the click of the door.
---
I took a deep breath, trying to control my breathing. Keeping my eyes closed, I hummed a happy tune- anything to chase away that stupid nursery rhyme from my head.
There were 5 monkeys, jumping on the bed. One fell off and bumped her head. Mother called the doctor, and the doctor said: No more monkeys jumping on the bed!
I vaguely remembered my own childish laugh from a long, long time ago, and encouraged, I kept on counting 'till the last monkey had fallen off the bed.
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Perfectly Imperfect 1
Teen FictionBook One of Perfectly Imperfect. [Opposites attract. Secrets kill.] Opposites attract; the oldest cliché in the book! What happens when it proves true though? What happens when the school's oddball and the golden boy befriend each other? Perhaps pe...
