A/N: Before you read I would like for you to know that I've decided to rewrite the book. I've decided to change some things and add new parts so that the story would make more sense. This new story will still have some of the original characters from the old story. I felt like the old Dark Side had a lot of characters that it made the book more about dialogue than storytelling . I think it would still have the same plot, but this time I'm taking it slow because I want to make sure that the main characters build up their relationship and not just fall in love and have sex right away. I have a lot to say, but I'm afraid if I keep typing I'd spoil all my plans. Anyway, enjoy the new Dark Side!
(I'll try to update this book as often as possible)
"Breakfast is ready," she heard her mom announce. She ignored it, she chose to ignore. She continued typing. She was close to the end, she's been waiting for the end, she knows she'll get the satisfaction that she needs. Helena didn't stay up just to be interrupted by breakfast. She was determined to write her ideas until she ran out of words.
"Clementine, where's your sister?"
"I think she's still in her room."
Helena heard footsteps, and then her door creak open. The sound almost made her flinch, but she kept working. She didn't notice that she's been typing faster than she normally do. Maybe she's meant to type words for the rest of her life, she doesn't seem to mind that future.
"Lena, it's time to—" her mom stopped mid sentence when she found her daughter, still in her her pyjamas, typing on her computer like a madman. "Jesus christ, Helena."
She ignored her mom and kept typing. She was almost done. Just a few more sentences and she'll show it to Rupert and her friends.
"Love, not again," her mom complained.
"Mom, I'm almost done." Helena reasoned. "I promise, just a few more sentence and I'm finished." She didn't even move her eyes to look at her mom. Nothing can stop her.
"That's the same thing you said the other day." It was true. Helena has been writing a lot of her stories, and it usually takes her hours—sometimes no sleep at all—to finish it. Her remaining audience are her friends and her older brother, Rupert.
They believe that Helena's writing skills are breathtaking, they know she'll go far someday with her stories.
"Mom, I took a shower last night," Helena said. "When I finish, I'll quickly change and go downstairs." She still didn't look at her mom. She was so focused on her writing that nothing else around felt important.
"You're going to be late," her mom reminded her. "And I can't give you a ride."
Period. Helena closed her laptop and and stood up from her seat, stretching. She was beaming, happy of the result of her short story. She usually sends it to her friends through email so that they can read it or save it on their computer, but she felt like she still needed to edit some parts.
Her mom sighed, "I'll see you downstairs. We have omelette and hash browns."
Helena's mind remained on her story. She imagined how her friends will react to it, what will their comments be, and how they'll talk about her new characters.
She was beaming.
Helena was in the middle of undressing when she felt something odd about the atmosphere. She felt cold and sensed a presence behind, but when she turned there was no one. She raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she was doing. Although she knew she was alone, she self-consciously covered herself and continued changing.