Black Forest-Editing/Rewriting

Part 1: Black Forest

 © Copyright / All Rights Reserved

Chapter One: Kidnapped and Liking it?

"You know what Jackson, if you're going to continue whining, then please do it somewhere else." I said finally getting sick of hearing how bad it was that he was stuck in this church in the middle of nowhere with me, when he could be somewhere else making plans on getting 'smashed'. It's not like I wanted to be doing this either, and it's definitely not my fault he had gotten stuck with me as a partner. If I had gotten my way, Lily would be here instead. But no, Mr. Robinson had given me Jackson Davis, the biggest jerk in school. Only time he had ever taken notice in me was when he was looking down my shirt. Just like he was right now, I narrowed my eyes at him. What a pig!

"Jackson, go away!" His eye's snapped up and he scowled at me before started off upstairs. 'I can't wait until this is over,' I thought. I started writing on my paper once again, it seemed stupid to have to write this paper in the first place but no, Mr. Robinson thought it best to send us to this abandoned church. I could all too well recall what that teacher had said to us.

"Miss Hummel and Mr. Davis, may I speak to you for a moment?" He said while pushing his bulky glasses back to the bridge of his nose. This man screamed Star Trek fan all over. His hair cut even reminded me of Spock's. "Yes Mr. Robinson?" Jackson and I said in unison as we walked to his desk. He sat down in his chair and fumbled with some papers before looking toward us. Running his gray eyes up and down Jackson then me, I started to fidget, uncomfortable to be stared at. "Ah, yes. Well I want you two to do something for your paper," He said while once again he pushed his glasses back to their rightful place. "You mean other than write it?" Jackson asked in an unpleasant tone, and I told myself I would hit him later for it. If there was anything else Mr. Robinson hated more than bad grammar, was bad manners. Which Jackson had plenty of both, "Yes, Mr. Davis. More than just write it. I think it to be a splendid idea that you two go write your paper at this church in Shady Groves." Did I just hear him right? Did he just say he wanted me and Jackson to drive to Shady Groves to write a paper? This man is way out of touch on reality. Like my mother would even let me take the car for that! She could care less about my education, she'd probably let me drop out of school if it meant I wouldn't drive her car. "Um, but Mr. Robinson, that's a four hour drive." He locked eyes with me and nodded before saying, "Well, it's that or I'm going to have to fail you two." That was a slap in the face. This reminded me why I never like him. He didn't care either. Surprise, surprise. So that's why I am in this stupid situation, because a stupid lifeless teacher that gets pleasure out of ruining students lives. My life sucks.

Coming back to the present, I heard a loud popping sound above my head; I look up and instantaneously regret it.

I saw a man thrashing in the air making horrible choking noises. To my shock I saw a noose tightly bond around his neck, and was stuck in place by the fear of seeing this happen right in front of me. As I slowly realize it wasn't a dream when the man's body went completely limp, his arms dropping down from his throat. Once the shock of what had just taken place loosened its grip on me I felt a chill run up me back as I realized who the man was, Jackson. My assigned partner to work with on their school project, I hadn't noticed him missing. I also hadn't heard a struggle. Fear crept up me and I heard a horrible ear shattering sound, and gasped as I become conscious it was coming from me. I quickly looked around my surroundings and caught sight of something moving in a shadow. Knowing that I'd rather not meet Jackson's murder I ran over to the table where the car keys were and bolted toward the door. As I reached for the knob I was slammed into by something from my right side, and landed hard into one of the tables as I was flung on the dirty floor, the blow almost knocking me unconscious. A sharp aching pain emerged from my hands and I saw tiny pieces of glass in bedded into my skin, blood slowly seeping through the tiny wounds. The glass had jammed into my hands from a failed attempt to keep my head from smashing into the wooden floor. I moaned as I tried to straighten out my body winching at the pain of my wounds and aching head.