Untouched (Untouched #1)(Old Work)

Chapter Two

"I honestly don't know. I asked him to be quiet, closed my book and he just... fell. The leg must have broken when he swung on it," Ellen replied. She was lost for words.

"Teenagers," muttered the elderly woman. Ellen assisted in putting everything away and left the library in a great hurry, the scene replaying in her mind as she went.

The second incident happened two weeks after the library accident. Ellen walked through the gates of the high school, making her way to the furthest block for math hour when she caught the sound of someone threatening another person. Looking around, she noticed Tom – a senior who happened to be a serial offender of school suspensions – towering over a weaker boy who was cowering away from him. Tom had a textbook in his hands and slammed it into the boy's chest upon seeing Ellen.

"Mark my words, git," he snarled into his ear. in the assertion of dominance, he pushed his shoulder into Ellen as he ambled past. "Move, you freak."

She ran up to the tormented teenager and convinced him to file a report with the principal. Nodding his head, he hitched his backpack onto his shoulders, whispered an appreciative thanks and scurried away. Ellen sincerely hoped that karma saw what had happened. To her surprise, this was answered by the end of the day.

In his aggression from being suspended, yet again, Tom had reversed a bit too quickly and crashed his roadster into the car behind him. An ambulance was called to treat a concussion he had received from hitting his forehead into the steering wheel, a result from his airbags failing to deploy. He was both the talk and butt of jokes for over a month, only ending when he decided to leave school and pursue vocational training instead.

He was his bosses problem now, no longer the care of the educational board.

Ellen continued mulling these thoughts but they became thinner and less comprehensive as her eyelids began to droop. She lost sense of time; time had let her go from its grasp. She succumbed to a deep slumber that welcomed her with open arms. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a musical voice call out to her. Hands wrapped themselves around her shoulder and guided her into an unknown abyss.

She now found herself in a handsome, wooden-paneled living room. There were two large, comfortable looking high-backed armchairs complimented by an antique wooden coffee table. The room was dimly lit by a roaring and delightful crackling fire in the fireplace which cast a warm hue across the room. The light twinkled off many crystals, glasses, and forged metal trinkets that lined the mantle and adjoining display cabinet. She walked forward cautiously, the rug beneath her feet feeling plush, and examined the intricately carved details of a trinket that was closest to her. It appeared to be a small figure of a man crouching in front of a rearing horse. 

It was so quiet that she could hear herself breathing. 

She moved to the next one; this one a forged goblet covered in odd symbols that were unfamiliar. It piqued her interest. Lifting a finger to get a better loo - 

"I would not touch that if I was you. It doesn't belong to you."

The same, musical voice that called her name.

Ellen spun on her heel, lost balance and grabbed the edge of the mantle to steady herself. Her heart was racing in fright. She was so immersed at looking and admiring these figures that she forgot about her surroundings and had let herself be caught off-guard. It took her just over a minute for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and realise where the voice originated from.

In the doorway of the room, she was able to just make out two pinpricks – eyes – that reflected the dancing flames. They disappeared and reappeared in an instant.