CAPTURE THIS (Updating regularly)

Chapter 1

The man paused his humming and looked up at her. "So... you have a name or should I call you girlie?"

"Girlie?" Amber repeated dubiously, wrinkling her nose. "I'll stick to Amber."

"Amber, huh? That's a pretty name." He commented. "Though I usually picture Ambers with blonde hair."

"So do I... that's strange, isn't it?" Amber mused, smiling slightly. "So are you going to keep me waiting for your name?"

"I like being the mystery man." He told her.

Amber rolled her eyes. "Why?"

 He shrugged. "I like the idea of being a mystery. My friends say that I'm as easy to read as a book."

Amber sneaked a glance at him. She disagreed with his friends. His relaxed yet weary expression gave no trace of his thoughts.

Amber opened her mouth to respond but he had resumed his humming. She became distracted and his voice seemed to get louder. She laughed and turned back to her painting. She wanted to paint the gleam of the meek sun on the leaves but realized that it had gone. The sun was slowly setting at it would soon be dark. She sighed. It looked like her painting would have to stay unfinished until she found the forest looking as alive as it did today. Perhaps if she pushed herself to work harder she could get the darker parts of the painting done...

The man's hums seemed to get louder.  She tried to paint to the beat of the song but it was too fast to keep up with. She glanced over at him to see his eyes were closed as he sat with his back against a large tree with his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Amber looked around, turning slowly on the spot. The trees surrounding her swayed to the irregular beat of his hums, the humming got even louder. It was as though he was humming right into her ears. She turned back to the painting, looking up occasionally at the trees over her canvas. Everything suddenly became more intense. Her vision blurred and everything merged into one. Colours and sound were suddenly one. Her senses seemed to be overloading. She could hear the wind gushes through the branches of the trees. The wind was pulling on her clothes. She got lost in the forest, the hums, her painting... and then she felt tired, exhausted. Then, everything went black.

"Amber, you alright? Kid, wake up."

Amber groaned as everything came rushing back to her. She could feel the scratchy sheets beneath her, the aches in every bone of her body, the sharp pain in her arm and upper thigh and the whirring of machines all around her. Her eyes remained shut.

Thoughts ran through her brain. What was going on? The forest... The painting... The mystery man who had refused to tell her his name...

She wrenched her eyes open with haste but immediately regretted it when the harsh white light momentarily blinded her. She recoiled and squinted, waiting for her sore eyes to adjust. She went to shield her eyes with her arms but her movements were sluggish and her hand ached.

It took her a minute realize that it was bandaged. She glanced around the room, panicking slightly. What was she doing in a hospital room?

"Kid..." She heard her father's gravelly voice from beside her and looked up at him.

"Dad?" Her voice was hoarse from the lack of use. "What the hell happened?"

"You tell me kid. You were in that bloody forest and fainted. If it weren't for that lad..." Her father looked down at her and his face softened. "You sure you're alright?"

Amber nodded, staring at her dad.

Mr Riley was not the typical British father. His leather jacket and motorbike helmet made him look like some type of biker and in some ways Amber thought he was. Mr Riley was a builder and when he wasn't working, he liked to ride on his motorbike. He often told Amber and her sister that it was a good way to clear his mind. He was a good father. Never judgmental, always sought the best for his daughters but Amber had been closer to her mother, as had her older sister, Annette.