Young Writers Society

Its been a while, sorry it took so long! The last chapter wasn't very good, I hope this one is a little better! Please review!

Chapter 3: Strange Goings On

“….the window softly closed itself, leaving no trace of any strange goings on.”

There is no need to say that the room was silent as, say, death, for example; for silence is silence, no matter what it is like. So simply, it was silent. A soft ray of sunshine seared through the closed window and tiny particles of dust drifted dumbly about, as though stunned by its radiance. Would that there had been anyone to see, they would have seen two rows of beds, seemingly deserted. And would that they had peered a little bit closer they would have been mistaken. But unfortunately, there was not, and the slight figure hidden by shadows in the last bed went un-noticed.

Aidan coughed and stirred slightly in her sleep. Her hand clenched tightly beneath her, but she did not wake. The orphan’s short curls were still damp. Her face was streaked and taut with dried tears.

Had there been anyone to hear, though of course there was not, not a single sound would have penetrated the stillness. Not even as the window slid slowly upward and a cool breeze billowed the thin, white curtains. Nor as a tall, dark man pulled himself over the ledge and landed un-naturally soundless upon the wooden floorboards.

The man strode swiftly to the room’s only occupied bed and glanced cautiously back from the open window to the closed door. When no change occurred he turned, satisfied, to gaze at the small, sleeping, figure. He stood there for a moment or two, drinking in every detail of her young face. His hand twitched with a longing to wake her and stare into her eyes, just to be sure. But he did not dare. Instead, after another silent moment, he gave a deft nod, turned and strode promptly to the open window, and leapt lightly over its edge. Another short moment and the window softly closed itself, leaving no trace of any strange goings on.

But that does not, of course, mean that there weren’t any. For many strange goings on happen when a back is turned, or ones eyes are closed. As it did so here. It began in the corner of the room. It was nothing much. Simply a slight haziness that should not have been there. Like looking through the heat waves of a fire. Without the fire part. It lasted only about a few minutes. Then, it was gone.

Without any warning at all, the girl opened her eyes. She stared about vacantly for a moment. When she realized where she was she gave a small start and glanced fearfully at the window. The very same, yes. It was as if she knew, although of course she did not. All the same, she stared at it with such fixation that surely it would have become quite uncomfortable had it been a living being. As would the man crouched on the ground below, had he still been there.

Aidan sat up and drew her clenched fist from below the covers. Apprehensively, she unfolded her fingers. One by one. It was gone. The only thing left upon her palm was a tiny cut from the sharp edge of the pit. A tiny trickle dripped out of the wound. Red as blood. Red as cherry juice.