At Death's Door

Chapter 1: Favourite Places

Author's Note 

AT DEATH'S DOOR is the first novel I have ever written. It was also written in its entirety for NaNoWriMo, an annual challenge to writers to write a whole novel in a month. Yes, this book was written in a month. Considering all that, it is a rougher work.

And though this story holds a special place in my heart, I no longer feel it is representative of my current work. So, after much thought, I've decided to remove the rest of it from Wattpad. You can still read the preview below.

If you want to read the rest, consider checking out my Ko-Fi, where you can download the complete book, including the sequel, AT DEATH'S SIDE, for a small fee.

Ko-Fi:
http://www.ko-fi.com/yvetterussell
https://ko-fi.com/s/969f4caddc
(Link in comments)

✦

The heavy doors, caught by a sudden gust, tore free from Elta's grip. They landed with a thunderous crash against the concrete wall behind them, ringing out over the howling wind. Elta cursed under her breath. A sound like that would draw attention, and attention was the last thing she wanted.

She debated just fleeing, leaving the open doors to be someone else's problem, but she quickly decided against it. After setting her books down on the steps, she went to pull them back into place. Though she heaved with all her might, it took all her strength to push them back into place. The unrelenting wind seemed determined to fight back.

But after a minute or two of great effort, the door's latch took, and the task was done. Elta briefly stepped back to admire her work, before she stooped to pick up her books. As she reached down for them, she noticed that there was already a slight ache in her arms. There usually was, even after the smallest amount of exertion; thinking of it sent irritation buzzing along her veins...

Then—without warning—the door swung open again, and slammed right into Elta, sending her—and her things—crashing to the ground. Her books scattered out across the path, and its gravel bit into Elta's palms as she reached out to catch herself.

Elta whipped around to snap at whoever had carelessly before she caught her tongue. Talking-back would only make trouble and she just wanted to get out of there. So instead she steeled herself, reining in her temper before she turned to face them.

There were three of them, just standing there, looking at her with their arms full of books of their own. They stood in silence, saying nothing; there were no apologies, no questions, no offers to help. Elta recognized them from seeing them around the Independent Education program. Their faces scrunched up in distaste, so she knew they recognized her too.

Elta's hackles raised, dread creeping through her. She wanted to leave, but some stubborn part of her wouldn't allow it.

Finally, one of them—a nervous-looking girl with erratically cut hair—spoke: "Are... Are you okay?"

The guy in the front snapped around and gave his friend a stern look. "Don't bother." The strange girl immediately shrank and shot one last look at Elta before hiding her eyes behind a large chunk of bangs.

Elta's jaw clenched, her gaze sharpening into a glare. More infuriating than their air of superiority was that look. She hated that look more than anything, and immediately despised anyone who made it in her presence. It was pity, and Elta hated to be pitied.

She moved suddenly, startling the group as she spun in place and headed towards the parking lot. She jumped into her small compact car and tore out of the parking lot, gravel spraying out from beneath her tires. The husk of her old vehicle shuddered with her ever-increasing speed, but she paid it no mind.