Notice: Hello readers, please could you note this is my first ever story uploaded so im not sure whether its good or bad, please could you tell me what you think and whether i should upload the next chapter.
Thanks and enjoy my story :) Also it is NOT like twilight, i aboustley love the books and my style of writing has changed ever since i've read the series, i wrote a chapter like twilight ( with the white skin gold eyes etc..) but i really want to hear peoples opinions on this,maybe if you enjoyed this i will upload the twilight one, i dont no whether this is against the rules or not, so sorry if it is !
The Visitor
Three sharp raps at my window echoed down the hall. I awoke sharply, my heart stuttered and burst into a sprint. The sound of my own jagged breathing frightened me, I had to calm down.
"Probably just a cat or something," I muttered to myself. I crept over to the window, taking a deep breath I examined it. It was pitch black, I didn't know what to expect, maybe blood red eyes, but of course there was nothing there. Mumbling to myself I walked back to the revolting lumpy bed, curling up on my side I tried to get comfortable, then suddenly a noise. The ancient rusty springs groaned, as I jumped to my feet. Hyperventilating, I new I wasn't imagining things. A sharp cold breeze moulded round the back of my neck, I spun round. The window was open. Whatever it was, it had got in, it was in here with me.
My head spun as the blood drained from my face. It felt like all the air had been knocked out of me, like a punch in the gut. Strangely enough I also felt grateful, grateful that my family were away safe on a beach. Whatever it was if it was going to hurt someone, at least it would only be me. I grabbed the nearest form of weapon around me. An Umbrella, great. Holding my breath I poked and prodded around the tiny dirty room. Movement caught my peripheral vision, I spun round and gasped. Light shone on the mirror above the door and reflecting on the grimy glass, was a knife. Not any old pocket or kitchen knife, it looked old but still razor sharp with some sort of symbol carved into the base. Maybe it was a family crest, a knife that was handed down from generation to generation, killing innocent people. I shudderd at the thought. Taking a deep breath, I looked even closer; I bit my lip hard to stop myself screaming out. Unmistakable dried blood was incrusted around the handle, tip, and base. Fresh new blood dripped down, breaking the silence, hitting the wooden floor with a defying thud.
My breathing suddenly got embarrassingly loud but I was beyond caring. I was going to get out of this house alive. I had to. I couldn't leave my daughter unprotected in a barbaric world like this. Tears trickled down my face as I thought of her beautiful face, I gritted my teeth together and narrowed my eyes. Fifteen previous deaths in this house, all on the same day, at the same hour. Determined, I vowed to myself that I wasn't about to be the 16th.
