There was a time I used to be alone all of the time. I never had friends, tried not to talk to anyone, and sat by myself no matter where I was. The automatic thing I know you thought was of me at school, being the loner emo girl that never got any attention. Well, that is wrong. I don't even go to school. The next thing I know you were thinking is that I'm homeschooled. That's not the deal either. I don't go to school at all. Oh, and I know you think your parents never let you skip school ever, but I don't know my parents. Niether did these other kids I met.
At first, I saw them once in a while, but didn't bother to say anything to them or even really look at them. Then I started to see them more and more often. So often, in fact, that I couldn'thelp but notice they were there. When I had spotted them for the hundredth time thaat day, they were staring at me like some creeps. I had walked straight up to them.
"A picture lasts longer." I snapped at them, glaring the whole time.
A boy stood up, making it look like he was the leader of the group. "We have enough pictures of you as it is." He shot back. He help up a camera and snapped a picture. "But one more wouldn't hurt."
I gaped at him. There was no way he was going to get away with this. Why would he was a picture of me in the first place? "What's you're deal? If you're trying to be a spy or something, you all are very bad at it. I have seen you since you first started spying on me."
The boy glanced back at the others sitting at the small dark metal table. The table had curled and knotted designs that were hard to follow unless you concentrated hard on it. The chairs had similar designs that were in different patterns than the table was. A sweet smell floated throughout the air as if taunting and teasing, making you want to find out what was producing the seducing aroma.
I silently promised myself to investigate the bakery. I have heard good things whispered about this place that always smelled of sugar and sunshine, never, even when closed, did the fragrance waver in its excellence. Every day I chose this same place to sit for my morning read.
"Why exactly are you here? I have seen you every day for the past two weeks, not once leaving until I do." I said.
"I just told you that I have been taking pictures of you and the first question you come up with is why I'm here?" He asked.
Okay, so maybe I should have thought more before I asked. I glared at him for thinking of that before I did. I honestly want to know why he's here more that why he was taking picutres of me, because it would be self explanatory afterwards.
When I didn't answer right away, the boy went on. "You know, most people would have been creeped out and stop coming to the same place. You, on the other hand, come back every day with the same attitude and your mood never wavers. We even tried to see what would happen if we sent someone to bother while read, but nothing happened."
I thought over that last couple of weeks. Two people had drug me from my reading, not in the literal sense, and it took five minutes at the most before they gave up and walked away, not once looking back or obviously wanting to try again.
"Could you just answer my question? I mean, seriously. It's the least you can do after stalking me for the past two weeks." I retorted.
"Fine, have it your way." He said. "We are looking for people to join us; someone who knows what they are doing and wont be seen when sent on a mission. We think you are the one we are looking for. I have seen how you study everything around you before you settle anywhere. Even when you come here, you look at everything before you sit and start to read. You even read the same book over and over so you don't miss anything that goes on around you."
I didn't even think to react. I just stared at him, looking him up and down; old sneakers, worn jeans, a dark blue, button up shirt. He had his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. His raven black hair almost covering his bright green eyes. He didn't look like a normal stalkier. He looked like the teenage boys that came in and out of the bakery daily, glancing at me and going to talk to thier friends.
I turned and left, not looking back, or really even wanting to know what he was talking about when it came to joining them. When they called after me, I ignored them, not bothering to acknowledge that they were following me.
YOU ARE READING
No Longer Alone
Action(On Hold- Kind Of) 15-year-old Carman Dawn has always been on her own and never relied on anyone but herself. That all changes when she finally approches the group of misfits that have been following her for the past few weeks. The ring leaders, bla...
