Young Writers Society

My eyes dripped tears down my hot cheeks. My face feels exactly like when I lean over to see what mom's dinner is. Too bad I can't be home.

Die.Die. My conscience doesn't shut-up. I close my eyes tightly afraid of the darkness surrounding me. Where is the light=switch in this closet? I can't move. I struggle to get loose from the scratching, burning rope. I finally untie it. Will anyone save me?

I stand searching for the doorknob.

Why did they do this to me? I suppose it was good that I hadn't screamed so anyone can make a huge-local-deal about me being here. I wanted to scream, loud. My throat is already dry and hurts from yelling from the upstairs bedroom. I had tried to save myself; Oh, how painful it was!

I had to get out of this closet. I step on something soft. I move it to the side. It's a blanket.

Oh, light! There is the door crack! I can hear the voices of wild and immature drinkers partying to the loud, obnoxious music.

How do I get out? The door is locked! Kate was in on this...locking me in so I desperately would cry for help to prove she was the best. If she actually was, she would leave me alone.

I search my pockets for my phone. Not there. Clifford, her slutty boyfriend must have stolen it from me.

Oh, how cold his hands were, being aggressively and tight around my paralyzed-like body.

In no visual, I climb, to what it seems to be, shelves. There's an attic! No, wait that's just the walling.

Sweat finds its way down my creased brows, joining my small tears, to my chin.

I've been in here for several hours. My curfew if twelve. My friends warned me not to come to this. I have to get out of here and home without any gossiper seeing my face, dorky and clumsy Beth, around a juvenile party.

I yank at the knob and push at it under all my weight. I begin to pray silently.

Then, I notice a shadow there seeping from under the door crack onto my shoes. It is a silhouette of some one's shoes.

I fall my bum to the floor and scoot to the end of the closet. Who was it? The door opens creaking. Should I hide?

A tall man angled downwards bends down to look at me. I can't see his facial features.

"Do you want help?" He said in a husky, young, velvety voice. He noted my stillness. "I can take you home, if you want me to?" He says breathing soft.

My chest stops pounding loudly. I suddenly feel calm and secure. He wants to help me.

I put out my hand. He reaches for my grasp. His hands are strong and his fingers are perfectly shaped to fit between mine. There is just something about him that makes me trust him. I'll take my chances. Maybe I knew him from somewhere. I'm glad it wasn't Clifford. We are in the dark. He pulls me toward him and holds my hand for a second or two. His hand as bitter-then sweltry- then bitter again? He lets go.

" Who are you?" I ask standing a fair distance from him.

He turns around at the footstep so I can't make eye contact with him. He gently places me behind him.

We step into the light. I have to hide behind him or I'll be spotted. I walk in his shadow around groups of party animals.

He has thin, golden streaks that are sewed into straw-berry blonde wavy hair. He is masculine.

He doesn't answer me.

His left, steady arm wraps around my waist covering my face in his shoulder so I won't be seen. He is protective and still purposely looking away from me, for some strange reason.

"I can't tell you." He said as we walk hastily to the front door, passing by a drunk crowd of Seniors. Girls turn to see who I'm with. Kate turns and just in the nick-of-time the guy angles his shoulder to cover me from her sight.

We open and close the door and enter the night. Finally, freedom rings. The guy lets me go.

I should have never came to this calamitous place. Thank God I'm not in there anymore!

I am thankful. He seems just so... helpful.

I spot the pale, lambent moon. It rains beams of snow-white down onto me as I walk off the porch. It is crescent and is bright as the sun after an eclipse begins to end. The sky is navy blue and orange. It smells of the ocean water from the beach way over East of Monterrey, CA.

" Your house, I'll take you there?" He asks.

I walk closer to him feeling warm and fuzzy. I'm not afraid, I am just curious to ask him why he came for me.I also wanted to know his name, but somehow I couldn't. There was a wall of glass sitting in my chest every time I tried to. Being here, I felt resistive to wanting to hold close to him, yet almost enthralled. I threw that feeling off my shoulders watching him observe the night.

"Jump on my back." He says tugging my shirt at my waist, in his hunched position, with his arms back-sided reaching for me. I climb and cuff my arms around his think neck. He holds my ankles inside his loose grasp.

" I live on Mount Ridge. You can just drop me off at the stop sign when we get there." I say as the wind inclines over my shoulders. He walks up the windy back roads. He didn't even ask directions. The he begins to run fast like a tiger.

" How do you run so fast?" I ask and listen attentively.

" Practice makes permanent." He replies soft and amiably.

I close my eyes and nod. I shutter at the sound of barking,chafed dogs, that comes from the woods a mile from here. I know who they are, but why are they here? I need to get home before I get in more trouble!

He plummets faster like a jet in the blue, turbulent sky. I can see the dirt sweep away from under neath his quick feet.

I keep quiet as we enter a street with many light-posts around us. Safety.