Young Writers Society

She lay there, flat on her stomach, watching the shadows pass over her soft purple bed sheets. Their dark figures with no true shape or form. Wandering listelessly, they seemed so too much like her own life she had to surpress i little shudder.

And then they stopped, almost as if frozen in time. The world had gone so quiet she could hear the thumping of her own heartbeat. For months now this had gone on: lying awake in the middle of the night staring at her room's ceiling . No! This wasn't her room - it was her Aunt Lyan's guest room. Since her parents murder she was shipped of here to live with the only relative that could take her. Her Uncle Morase back in her home town was deemed "unreliable", and it was true: on the night of her parents murder he had been the last to show up, even though he only lived three blocks down the street. And so a week later she was set on a four hour plane trip to her aunts putrid green house that smelt of all nine cats she lat live there. I mean dont take it alll bad she was a nice enough woman, but she wasn't her mom, no matter how hard she tried.

But no matter how much crying she did the pain never left. The memory of that hirrible night not so long ago.

It had been a dark cold nightjust like this one. But fortunatly she had been over at her friend Amy's house. She loved going there, her parents believed in using the heater instead of "conserving money and energy" like her parents scolded every time Lindsey turned up the thermostat.

"Amy, hand me the chips, I'm starving" I shouted

"You're ALWAYS hungry!" she laughed back.

And on they went eating thir way through every thing that stood still long enough.

But then the door bell range. Looking at my watch I complained, "Who the heck would be here at this time of the night!" It was rediculious, it was so dark and cold outside they had to be crazy!

"Linds, look at the time, 2:30 a.m., it's hardly night, who cares any way, my mom will get it, you know how paraniod she is about 'strangers'!" And with that they went back to eating and talking endlessly.

"Lindsey dear, could you please come down?" Amy's mom asked from her door way.

I shote Amys a curious glance and followed Mrs. Matts down the stairs. It wasn't till I was at the last step that I saw the two cops and the flashing red an dblure lights behind them that I know something was terribly wrong. Their faces full of sorrow and distance. The tal one started to move his mouth, but no words came out, even the wailing siren was silent to my ears. Suddenly I felt a soft but sturdy grip on my shoulder and could tell it was Ames, good old Amy. And then I gratfully passed out in her arms.

The second I woke I knew something was wrong, something inside me told me to run, go home, cuddle up with my parents. They could confort me know matter what it was. I needed to run, to hide, to get out. And as i sat up to bolt I saw it in their faces, the cops, Amy and her moms even my Aunbt Lyan. Pure dread and fear was so clearly writin on their faces they practically had it written in sharpee. Amy's face, worse than the others was tear strikin and contorted in trouble. It was Ames that broke the news to me.

"Linds... your parents," she suddenly shoot with a sobb as Mrs. Matts patted her back, " your parents were murdered.

And so the long restless days sitting at the house weighting for Lyan to get home from her all day shifts at the hospital. She was a full time nurse at the Remes Hospital in there little bo-dunk of a town. She loved her work, but now with her sisters death she worked even longer hours to keep from thinking abou tit. And so this brought her back to lying up late at night wide awake from sleeping most of the day. Thinking about her parents and why she felt that ever-present sense of being watched. Knowing that something was always wrong somehow. It terrified her to ne end and yet no matter how many times she looked behing her shoulder she never saw him. But as she stared back down onto her pillows she knew.

He was here, waiting, watching. She could feel his silent presence emanating not only from a single point but like the air that filled every inch of her room. His gleaming hazel eyes searching every inch of her body yearning for a soft tender kiss or a simple stroke of his cheek. She knew his deepest desires, and yet never gave into him, that is why he hated her so much; that is why he was here.

She took a deep breath and as she let it out she felt it, the knife. Sliding down between her shoulder bones. Crisp dark maroon blood slowly seeping down her back and over her hips and pooling around her trembeling body. He had aimed the knife perfectly, right through her back and straight into her heart.

He had been watching her for a while now. Her soft pale skin glowing like a goddess' in the shining silver moonlight. Her silky black hair falling around every curve of her back and neck. She would be his, that or die. So close he'd been to having her the first time. But then things changed. She would pay, every one would pay.

"Be mine, be mine and I'll bring you back, little Lindsey,'" he rasped into her ear.

"How, how could you?" she gasped.

"I have my ways." he chukled.

"Who...are you?" she said.

"Why don't you look and see for yourself ?" He laughed.

She turned to look, gasping, she recognized him, his once soft, caring features now contorted into a show of anger, sadness, and vengeance.

"You," she quietly gasped. But not quietly enough.

"Yes, little Lindsey. Who were you expecting?" A deep laugh radiating from his very core. His patience wearing considerably thin, just like the heartbeat of his precious Lindsey.

"What is your answer!" He yelled. Would it be better to simply die and leave this world that caused her so much pain and and tears? To see her family again? No, she was never the one to give up.

"Yes."

And then she blacked out.