Young Writers Society

This is chapter two of my story... it'll be a while before chapter 3 is posted and so on since i haven't actually written those yet ha ha. enjoy anyway. and again, there will be thoughts, and they are in italics... just not here since i can't be bothered ha ha.

Chapter two ~ Forbidden

He’s not telling me anything. I know he knows something. I know he’s messing with me. I know he’s an evil demon. But the thing is… how can I recognise a demon if I’ve never met one? How can I tell if he’s not being controlled himself? But what if… what if all of this is just one big dream. Yeah right…

Keep dreaming Zoë. Keep dreaming…

I stared at Connor across from me in English. He was staring right back at me, dangerous and inviting. He was a demon. He had to be. My English teacher was yapping on about Romeo and Juliet. I wasn’t paying any attention to him; I was staring at Connor, my boyfriend. I never thought I would get one, and I knew that he wasn’t really a true boyfriend. He was using me for some reason… I needed an explanation. After class, I thought. I’ll stop him and make him talk to me.

“So can we write a short paragraph on Romeo and Juliet telling us what the story is all about?” Mr Knight said, scribbling a few things on the interactive white board.

“Yes,” everybody said, everybody but me.

I lazily wrote a few lines, then I put my pen down and gazed at Connor again, wishing the curse would be lifted.

The hour flew by, and before I knew it, I was packing my bag to leave for my next lesson. Connor walked past my desk and brushed his hand against mine. I grabbed his hand. He stopped.

“I demand you tell me why you’ve chosen me,” I hissed. Connor stared into my eyes, and then he smiled.

“Because I was told to Zoë,” Connor said, he pulled his hand out of my grip and walked away.

I tried to catch up with him, tried to follow him… but something was gluing me to the spot. Stopping me from following him. God damn him! The stupid demon!

The day was quick; I didn’t see Connor again until after school outside the school gate. He was stood there, and he just seemed to be waiting. His dark eyes were seductive, his dark hair was flopping to one side making him look gorgeous, every girl that walked past had their eyes were fixed on him. My natural impulse was to say “back off bitch”… but I didn’t want to be his girlfriend. That wouldn’t have been me speaking.

The warm summer air circled me, making me feel full of happiness. Connor smiled at me as he tucked some of his dark hair behind his ears. He reached out for my hand, pulled me close and kissed me. I couldn’t pull away, I embraced it, and I allowed it to happen. After all… what could I do when I was being controlled? He was the puppeteer and I was the puppet.

He pulled away. I rested my head on his shoulders.

‘You’re coming back to my place,’ he whispered into my ears. Wasn’t it a bit soon?

‘But my parents don’t even know you, and yours don’t know mine. How can that work?’ I asked, moving my head so I could gaze into his dreamlike eyes.

He laughed, a deadly and cruel laugh. ‘No, I don’t have any parents. You’re coming to my flat,’

Deeper control. So deep my chest was beginning to ache. ‘Of course,’ I agreed. ‘Yes, I’m going back with you.’

He walked with me along the road, and soon, we were walking on streets I didn’t recognise. I didn’t see any street names. I couldn’t see any. There probably weren’t any… the houses looked run down, a few with boards in the window, some had overgrown gardens and weirdly, in the middle of all the run down rubbish houses, was a tall house. It was bigger than the others, and wider as well. The front garden had beautiful roses, tulips and green grass. A bench was sat next to the gate, and there were grand steps leading up to an ornate looking door.

‘Here we are,’ Connor said. Proudly leading me up the pathway and up the stairs. He took out a key and opened the door slowly and carefully. The house was massive! It had long steps spiralling to the first floor, a wooden balcony and ahead of me was a grandfather clock, ticking as the day went by. The wallpaper was a soft cream colour with a brown dashing board, the carpet was a lush red and there were a few plants scattered around. It was beautiful.

‘I’m back!’ He yelled down the hallway.

I was wondering whom he could be talking to, if not his parents, when an old lady wearing an apron shuffled down the hallway and stared at Connor. ‘Hello,’ her voice was croaky and bitter. Almost like she couldn’t stand the sight of him. ‘Remember to pay rent. I want it by Friday.’ She waggled her finger, looked me up and down, frowned and tutted. She tucked her white hair behind her ears and pushed her glasses further up her nose.

Connor stroked my hair and kissed my cheek.

‘You and your games! Why do you bring back these girls?’ The old lady suddenly shrieked, and she threw a duster at Connor and shuffled down the hallway, muttering to herself all the way.

Baffled, I gripped Connor tight around the waist like a lost puppy; he steered me up the stairs past several doors and corridors – this house really was immense – until finally, he stopped.

‘This is my room,’ he whispered into my ear as he kissed my cheek. Connor swung open the door and pushed me gently inside.

Wow, was the first thought that came into my mind, because the room was huge! Just like everywhere else in the whole house, big, ornate, ancient… beautiful. There was a four-poster bed next to the left wall near the entrance, a tall wooden wardrobe, and a man-sized window with long, overflowing red curtains. The floor was wooden, polished and spotless.

The room was so much I had only ever dreamed of, I never thought I’d see the day where I was in a room of such exquisiteness. Slowly, I sucked in a deep breath and turned to face my boyfriend.

‘Why am I here?’ I wheezed as he walked ahead of me and sat on his bed.

I was a puppet again… a force pulled me towards the bed and sat me down hard. Heart aching as he gripped my hand and pulled me closer to him.

‘I have to bring you here… he keeps telling me to. I’ve been told to,’ and then as if he couldn’t help himself, he leaned forward and kissed me, his left hand cupping my face whilst his right hand was wrapped around my waist.

I let him kiss me, I let him hug me, and I let him tell me he loved me.

‘I don’t understand,’ I whispered to him. I held his hand and kissed his neck, then his lips.

‘It’s not yours to understand,’ Connor said, and he let go of me, moved away like a cat and sat on a chair near the window. ‘I don’t understand it myself. All I know is that I have to stay with you, stay with you until he rises.’

Perplexed, I crouched beside him and held his hand whilst he wept. ‘Why are you crying?’ I asked him.

He sniffed then brushed his hair back over his ears. ‘Because you’re the last one,’ then, almost as if he hadn’t started crying, he coughed and frowned. ‘I forbid you to see your friends, I forbid you to make contact with any boy, if you do, they will burn. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, it is,’ I said, and then I felt an overpowering urge to leave the house and go home.

I left.

Reviews and comments would be appreciated.