Daybreak 1.1 (Part 1, Chapter 1) Read Count : 121

Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Romance

I sit silently in a cold dark room, looking out to a tear dropped world. The rain taps gently on the window, silently rocking the trees back and forth. I watch closely as the night sky begins to churn, and the sky is a dark trench of feelings. I look out to nothing but a rainy night, the moon had run away with the stars, and vanished into its world behind the clouds. I waited patiently to each pitter patter of the rain on my window in silence. The wind whispers to me in a sweet voice and knocks on the wet pane with its sweet night breath, then leaves with no sound. I flush myself into deep thoughts. My eyes close and I allow my body to flow into my brain little by little. But the picture doesn't come to me. The frustration tears my brain apart. I drop down on my bed in agony letting go a big sigh in my wake, breaking the loud silence of my room. My bed softly holds me in its arms as I lie under its wings. I open my eyes to continue staring into the darkness that consumes my room, looking, waiting. But nothing is yet to come. Clock reads 2:30. I still wait, but each minute goes by slower and I listen to the ticking of grandfather clock in the hallways. Tick...tick...tick...tick...tick...- Looking back again, 2:31. I cover myself in a warm white blanket, lying on my side watching the clock. The night is longing and my eyes refuse to close. I wait longer, nothing seems to change. Still that same silence. 2:32. I fiddle with a broken string beside my bed. 2:33. I turn on my book light and read a chapter or two. 2:40. I throw down the book, attempting to listen to the chirping crickets. But nothing to be heard. 2:41. I get up and stretch. My feet touch the soft rug beside my bed and my toes massage it carefully.  2:42. I open my bedroom door. The house is as dark as the night. A sound fulfills me of my snoring father. And I am bound to open the door to ask for help. But my lack of light won't underestimate the need for a feeling of being alive. I wait a tad longer to find myself to the stairs and steady my way down them, holding on to the railing for every step I take. The soft creaking of the ground below me sends a chill down my spine, when a small knock on the door startles me. It comes again as I linger closer. And as I get to the door it stops. I unlock it slowly. Then peer out the door with a hoarse "Hello". No one answers. I shut it back slowly biting my lip. Something doesn't feel right. I try to grasp my shaking hands and linger them above the lock. Boosh! A cold wind shoves it's way in and I fall down to the floor with a thump. A weight bastes upon my body. And my eyes are fluttered with fear. "Oh my-" my voice shakes and the boy shushed me. Placing his cold hands over my lips. The gentle touch of his icy fingers make me quiver. He breathes on my face a chilly wet, and I watch as his saliva begins to drop slowly from his lips. His teeth, sharp as razor blades. His nose falls against my neck. My heart beats faster. I try not to make any sudden movements. His teeth are only an inch from my neck, where he could rip the life out of me with one bite. "Please..." I say, a shaking in my voice. He looks around the house, then back at me. His dead grey eyes meet with mine. He towers above me, when his hands meet my neck. His grip tightens around it, my breath is running short. "Please..." I try to say, but before it left my mouth, everything went dark.


6:00 A.M.


I wake up in my bed, the sound of my alarm. It's 6 o'clock, and I felt what had seemed to me was a dream. But there seemed something off. I walk into the bathroom and brush my teeth, when I take notice to a strange marking around my neck. I'm afraid my medicine has been driving me insane. I easy my way down the stairs when I hear my mom beginning to talk to me. "Maria, why was the door open late last night?" She asks. I shrug, "Did Bandit get out?" I ask her looking at the German Shepardin the corner. "Nah, he was in bed with me all night." Says Oliver, my 10 year old brother. "Could've been those pesky cats of the neighbor's," says my dad pushing up his glasses, continuing to read the newspaper. The neighbors? "We got new neighbors?" I asked. "Yep, been here since last week." Says mom. "They're very suspicious people." Dad finishes. "I'll be right back..." I say putting on my house coat. I walk out the door into the cool chilly Saturday morning. The sounds of barking goes around in the neighborhood, as I walk to the next house. The place is old, I would always think it was nearly impossible to live in the place. 600 years old. No one's lived in it since the Hookerman Family back in 1952, when Mr.  and Mrs. Hookerman's daughter Claudia J. Hookerman died of a savage attack by what people call werewolves, who was dragged away perishly one moonlit summer night. I don't believe the tale. Because these animals people come up with are completely ridiculous.  The family left town by daybreak and haven't been heard of since. I foolishly walk up the stairs which creak under my feet with an unsteadiness in its cry. I knock lightly on the door when that same silence from last night's encounter. Erm, I mean dream. The door slowly opens, but no one is there. I open it wider and walk in like an idiot. The place is dark. Cold. Quite. I feel the walls searching for a light switch. But lights flash on and a young man towers above me as I fall to the ground. His dark black hair covers one of his eyes, that cold, cold dead grey, as I saw in my dreams. 

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  • Oct 15, 2020

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