Ah! This is definitely not my first story, but I think it's the first one I'll actually enjoy keeping and updating on Wattpad.
Because romance is so difficult for me to write, I'm going for a horror/mystery story, and maybe if I get the feeling, I'll add a little romantic twists here and there? Though I doubt it... A lot.
Please bear with me on the first chapter. I am very sorry if this offends anyone! If you have any info that could help me make this story seem a bit more realistic, logical, sensible, ANYTHING, please share it with me! Criticism is welcomed.
P.S.: Anything said in brackets "[ ]" signifies an auditory hallucination.
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Medical Record
Name: Emmeline Deth Orvela
Age: 18
Sex: F
Birthdate: 5-18-1925
No.: 3
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The car drives down the dark, dirt path as it passes by tree after tree.
I can barely see anything; the headlights of this car shine lonely beams of light that aren't enough to break through the pressing darkness of the surrounding environment.
I can only guess that we're not near the place yet.
"I know why you're taking me here..." I say to my sister. She calmly drives the car over the numerous bumps of the path.
"You're going to feel much better after the people at Keisers help you. I promise you, Emmy." she replies to me.
"I heard everything that you guys said! YOU WANT TO GET RID OF ME FOR GOOD!" I shout at her. "What did I do wrong?!"
She sighs and pauses for a moment until she speaks. "We want you to stay with us at home. But... it's just that we think that you might need some help before you can go back home again."
She's lying... EVERYONE around me lies to me... They've always lied to me.
Since I was a little girl, I've always tried to be good.
But no one ever liked me. They hated me. Because of that, I've always felt like a piece of garbage...
No one EVER told me what I did wrong to make them hate me so much!
"Why didn't we get help for you sooner?..." my sister murmurs to herself. I glare at her.
I'm not deaf. I'm not stupid. But why?
[You're soooo lucky they didn't try to throw you away here earlierrr.]
When I look at the front car window, I see white, ghostly faces pressing against the glass.
They all twist their faces into strange, dramatic expressions, from wry grins to long, unnerving frowns.
"Run them over! RUN THEM OVER!!" I scream inside the car. "THEY WANT TO HURT ME!!!"
"SHIT!" My sister steps on the brakes, and the car comes to an abrupt stop on the path. "What are you screaming about?!"
The faces press harder onto the glass, preying me.
A crack forms in the glass of the window.
"THE GLASS IS BREAKING! THEY WANT TO GET ME!"
"Jesus Christ, Emmy! There's nothing there!" she says.
[It's better. It's a lot better. If it breaks it'll be better, better, better.]
As my sister starts the car again, the glass completely shatters, and the white, wispy forms of smoke flood into the car.
