Hey guys! So, this is my first book here so I would really appreciate it if you guys helped me out and recommended it ;) Sorry to bore you guys with my writing up here but I just wanted to let you guys know that I made the first chapter short just so you could decide whether you want to continue reading it or not. I hope you guys do though :))
Please comment and vote! I’ll love you all if you helped me out!!
Xoxo gossip goat ;)
Sorry I just had to say that haha.
- Frappee14
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CHAPTER 1 –
“Valerie! Valerie, please wake up!! VALERIE!! COME ON PLEASE!! *sobs*
I tried to open my eyes, my lids were heavy, it was too hard. My air ways seemed to be blocked by what seemed to be thick smoke. I tried opening my eyes again, blinking furiously in what seemed to be a deadly sleep.
“VALERIE COME ON!! WAKE UP!!”
I heard distant yelling, a familiar voice calling. A soothing one, filled with horror, my mother. Before I knew it I was being shaken awake by strong yet sensitive hands. I opened my eyes to a horror film in my peaceful dreams. My curtains were engulfed in burning flames, eating away on what used to be purple material, and the floor seemed to be covered in a thick layer of black ash as did the rest of the furniture in my room. I couldn’t see anything. Nothing apart from the bright red monster of heat hovering not too far away from me. I began violently coughing out the lump of smoke in my throat that seemed to have already made its way into my lungs, intoxicating me completely. The two people beside me did the same.
“Valerie, run! Run before it’s too late! GO!!” My dad yelled at me.
“Mum! Dad! What’s happening?! There’s a fire! Why aren’t you moving!! COME ON!! We have to get out of here!” I spoke, my voice sounding croaky and being interrupted by chokes of air. My head was spinning and even though I was panicking, my eyes rolled backwards and I felt like falling backwards in dizziness.
The sound of the constant beeping of alarms blocked out my ears, my breaths caught up in my throat, becoming shorter and shorter by the second. I chocked on the thick ash covering my face, coughing and coughing until I collapsed back onto the bed. I tried my best to keep my eyes open, blinking furiously with weakness taking over my body.
“Where’s Jason?!! MUM!! WHERE IS HE?!” I choked out.
“GO VALERIE!! YOU HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!!”
“Mom, dad... run. Run please... please.”
“Before it’s too late. GO!!”
“BUZZZ!!!!”
I shot up out of bed shaking. The same dream again. It’s been two whole months and I’m so scared that I’ll be waking up to that horror everyday for the rest of my life, dream or reality. I was panting now, like I had just run a marathon. I looked down to see the deep purple coloured bed sheets lying on the floor in a scrunched up mess and to find nothing left on my bed, just myself and the pillow I was tightly holding onto. I couldn’t tell if I was cold without my bed sheets or cold in my short summer pyjamas, but I was uncontrollably shacking. I exhaled unsteadily and wiped away the droplet of sweat from my forehead.
“BUZZZ!!!”
The sound of my annoying alarm clock filled my up my small room again and I was reminded yet again of the fire alarm. My ears started ringing and I aimed to turn it off, whacking something while attempting to do so. Let’s just say that I might need to buy a new lamp. I was never really a hand-eye coordinated person. When I managed to get that stupid object to shut up, I got out of bed, letting go of the pillow which I seemed to have squeezed all the air out of, and took a look around my room, or at least what was left of it since I was last here. Some boxes still filled, while others half empty scattered all around the small room which was now mine. This was meant to be my home now.
Have you ever misplaced an object? Like a book or a DVD, It was misplaced right? Because it has a place in which it belongs. You have a specific spot for it. Well my life is like that, I am misplaced. The only difference between me and a misplaced object, is that the object has a place to begin with, I don't. I don't belong here. I am lost in the maze of life, searching for the centre, except that centre doesn't exist. I can keep searching until the sky above me collapses on to my shoulders, but I will never find it. And it just pisses me off that I'm still alive and have to live through this. I have to live through a life that is clearly going nowhere.
This is my auntie’s house. I used to live in here, untilI finished my junior years. I used to live here before, before my p-parents decided we should move out and start fresh somewhere new. It was all so good, we were so happy after we left this place. I never thought I’d have to come back here, come back here to where my life was miserable. Why did this happen to me? Where did I go wrong? We were all happy where we were, before those thick hot flames brought down our fresh start, along with my family. The only ones I have and will ever love. I’m never going to love again. I’ve learned that when you hold on to something too dearly, the harder it will be to let them go. All of that love, and then all of the suffering. What was it all for? I lost them all in the end. I lost them.
The thought brought fresh hot tears to my eyes, I walked over to the large windowsill, which was large enough for me to sit on and low enough for me to see everything outside. I walked over there to escape the darkness of this small room right now. I can't face the dark anymore, I can't after what it brought to me. I sat on the white windowsill, the warmth and brightness of the light covering me like a blanket. I clutched onto myself for dear life, letting all the tears come out for the hundredth time. I brought my knees to my chest and held on so tight, I would’ve thought my blood flow stoped. Why did I have to make it out and not them? No, I thought to myself, I’ve been over this already. You will not feel sorry for yourself anymore. It’s been two months and today you start school. 'Be strong', my mother said to me. But how could I be? How could I be when I needed her in order to do that? I needed all three of them.
I wiped off the wet tears that just never seemed to stop with the sleeve of my shirt and turned to look out the window. I noticed a guy in the same uniform I was going to wear, walking past. He caught my glance with what seemed to be dangerous but soft brown eyes, expressionless he turned back to facing the foot path ahead of him and continued walking. Tall with messy brown hair and broad shoulders, he looked like the protective type. That's probably what Jason would've turned out like, if he had the chance to go on with his life. I inhaled sharply, not wanting to start crying again.
I sighed, this was the last place I wanted to come back to, school used to be hell for me here. Now that I was back, what was I to expect? I stepped off the windowsill and onto the cream carpet on the floor. Wiping away the stray tears on my face, I went to get ready for the first day of my senior years. This was it.
After taking a good long shower, the shacking seemed to stop. I looked almost normal again, almost. The depression and sadness still filled my eyes, and the sick feeling in my stomach never seemed to leave. I felt broken, shattered. As if a large bulldozer got thrown to the window, crushing any chance of its life, I felt like that right now. The three people I loved most in my life were all taken away from me. My life just seemed to be and endless scenario of bad shit happening.
I stopped one last time in front of the hallway mirror to look at myself. My aunty had already left for work and I had to lock up. I looked down below the mirror to find a family portrait. My aunty had this photo of us; it was the last family photo we took. About a year ago, we went to the local park at my old neighbourhood and my 4 year old brother Jason took out his water gun and sprayed all of us head to toe. Of course we got revenge on him, but in the end we all got wet anyway. My aunty had been there to capture the photo of all of us laughing and throwing water at each other, all of us drenched and uncontrollably laughing. It was a captured memory.
I guess it was just a matter of being at the right place, at the right time. The exact opposite phrase defines my life. I picked up the photo to look at my family. My little brother staring at us mischievously with his big water gun, he could barely carry it let alone soak us with it, yet he somehow managed to. Those blonde messy locks and his beautiful green, happy eyes. He was so young, why couldn’t I die instead of him? Why did he have to?
I got teary at the thought and quickly blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. 'I love you.' I whispered to the photo and set it down in its place. I took a look at myself before I left. I couldn’t cry again. I stared at the person in front of me. She looked terrible. All the light and happiness drained out of her. I stared back into her brown, almond-shaped eyes; I can’t even remember the time that they were full of happiness.I blinked the tears away again, my long black eyelashes, wet from tears, brushing against my cheekbones. Her brown curly hair lay beneath her shoulders, and the blue senior uniform looked normal on her. Normal, that was good, she’d blend in now. I checked my watch and saw that I had to leave now. I stepped out of the house, closing the door behind me. Stepping out to face reality, I knew it wasn't much different from the nightmares I had seen or experienced. They were reality, and now I had to go back there, go back to square one, in a school where the nightmares only begun.
This, is square one.
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