AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is my first story and I'm still working hard on it. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Here is what you need to know:

Quinn got pregnant when she was 17 with Clay. So Clay has been around since high school. Quinn and Clay are both 31, their daughter is 14 and the present time is 2017. The shooting of Quinn and Clay didn't happen. Couples are Haley/Nathan, Brooke/Julian, Lucas/Peyton. They way it should be. Haley still got pregnant in high school as well. I'm not sure how much older Quinn is than Haley, but I'm gonna go with 4 years and just say that Jamie is 10 in the story. You're more than welcome to correct me if I'm wrong. I can find a way to try and fix it as I go along. So, history has changed a little, just bare with me. If you get confused or notice a mistake or error, please let me know!

Thank you,

-Jude


Chapter 1

Fear Is A Man In The Dark

Growing up until now was a breeze, now that I'm thinking about it. I was born into luxury. My Father is famous sports agent, and my Mother, a world-renowned photographer. My Aunt Haley travels the world playing music for her fans and my Uncle Nathan shoots hoops for a living. My Aunt Brooke designs clothes for the most respected of clients and my Uncle Julian makes movies. I can't even count on all of my fingers and toes of how many spectacular things I've seen in my 14 years of living. I traveled to Europe with my Mother for a month and watched her take pictures of so many beautiful landmarks, buildings, and nature. I've seen my Aunt Haley perform in L.A., New York, even Hawaii, in front of thousands of screaming fans. I've watched my Uncle Nathan slam dunk into the final seconds of a championship victory. I've watched the models of New York Fashion Week walk down the runway in my Aunt Brooke's clothing she designed with her own bare hands. I've met countless celebrities and have witnessed a handful of my Uncle Julian's movie premiers.

All of these things that are running through my mind have no relation to what is going on around me at this moment in time. I shouldn't be thinking about this. I need to snap out of this, I need to be smart, I need to get myself out of this situation, or else I'm done for. Missing. Finished. Or even worse, dead.

There are so many reasons why those thoughts went through my mind, but I feel as if I can only tell you one. Fear. Fear is a mind-killer. Fear is a man in the dark, and you know he's there, but only he can see you. He, who seeks, shall find only if one is in fear. How did this happen? All I want is to be 5 years old again. Mom would snuggle with me in my bed and read me a story, and my Dad would come in soon after, kiss my cheek and they would both tuck me in. Now that can't happen, because they don't know where I am. I don't know if they ever will.

May 12th, 2017

3 Weeks Earlier

I climb outside my window sitting on the ledge I dangle my feet as the tip of my toes touch the hard, sandy roof. Where I am, is pretty much the greatest view in the whole house. My parents don't like that I sit on the outside of it because they think I'm stupid enough to let myself drop 2 stories.

I watched and observed almost everyday on that windowsill. So far, I've only made two observations. The first one being new movers across the street and the second one being my Dad pulling into the driveway, getting out of the car and grabbing the newspaper.

"Max Avery Evans, your Mother is gonna kick your ass if she sees you dangling outside that window!" My Father yelled.

"Well... she can just kiss it instead! And I'm not dangling, I'm sitting securely! Did you bring me donuts!" I yelled back down to him as he still stood in the drive way, staring up at me as he squints towards the sun.

"No, my lady, you get to eat cereal today. Your Mom said no more donuts this week, so you better get downstairs and eat quick or you're gonna be late for school." He yelled and then continued back into the house.

I take one more quick glance to the house across the street. There's a big truck in the driveway with men unloading furniture. I mostly try and look to see if there are any children running around, but it seems as though there is none in sight. However, there is a man. He looks as if he's in his early thirties. I guess it's just him moving into that big, old house.

I change into my school clothes, brush my teeth, and pretty run down the stairs.

"You would think by the way she runs down those stairs, that there would be at least two more kids following behind her… or a heard of elephants." My Mother said to my Father, while acknowledging me.

"Morning, Mama." I spoke softly as I walked towards the fridge and she came up behind me, kissing the back of my head.

"Morning, sweetheart. How'd you sleep?" My Mother asked, looking at me with her curious, bright eyes.

"Better than the other night." I said, in a groggy voice.

"Don't forget, your Dad is picking you up after school and he's taking you to Dr. Scheel's." My Mom spoke.

When I turned 6, I was diagnosed with insomnia. I was never, ever tired. My Mom would always read me countless books and I would pretend to fall asleep so she would stop reading, but really, I was never asleep. Once they would go to bed, I would get out of mine and clean my room, or go downstairs and get a glass of water. I would try laying back down and I would squeeze my eyes as tight as I could, but the only thing that managed to do was give me a headache, so then I would just climb into my Mom and Dad's bed and wedge my way in between them. One day when I was in school, the teacher had called my Mom to let her know that I wasn't paying attention or interacting with the kids like I used to. The teacher tried to tell my Mom and Dad that I was depressed, but they couldn't believe that their 6 year old daughter, who has lived such a wonderful life, would be depressed. Well, they ended up scheduling me an appointment with a sleep psychologist and that's when I was diagnosed with insomnia. So now, I have to go to my therapist three times a week and do these lame relaxation techniques like, diaphragmatic breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, and visual imagery, which is what I'm suppose use when I'm going to sleep. Some days it helps, other days it's useless.

"Man, do I have to? I hate doing those breathing exercises. I sound and not to mention, look like an idiot." I complained.

"Wow, you sure are 14." My Dad responded back in a smart-mouthed tone.

"Shut up, Dad, I'm serious. I don't want to do it anymore. I just want to be able to sleep like a normal human being. I've been going to these stupid appointments since I was 6 years old and they've barely helped." I exclaimed. I rarely ever yelled towards my parents, but I've been so stressed out lately with just about everything. My Dad looked at my Mom with a serious look on his face and she walked up towards me, putting her hands on my shoulders.

"Alright, let's negotiate. When's your last day of school?" She asked.

"Ummm May 20th... why?" I asked confused.

"How about on May 20th, we end the sessions? Deal?" She said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sounds good to me." I said while smiling. I continued to sit down at the table, inhaling my cereal and of course interrogating my Mom and my Dad like I always did.

"So... have you guys met the new guy across the street yet?" I asked.

"Nope, maybe I should I bake a cake?" My Mom spoke in all seriousness. My Dad tried to hold in his laugh, however, I wasn't as talented as he was.

"Mom, you're kidding right?" I said trying not to laugh anymore than I already was.

"What? Are my cakes that bad, Max?" She asked so innocently.

"Well, Mom, let's just say that baking isn't your best skill. Let's save the guy a trip to bathroom and maybe just buy him something from the bakery." I spoke with a sour face. I felt bad, but someone had to let her know that her baking usually turned out burnt, crunchy and dry. It was enough to make you want to vomit.

Of course, my Father stays quiet in the background and let's me do all the talking.

"Fine." My Mom spoke as if she were five years old.

"But… if it's any consolation, this cereal is like… the best." I spoke sarcastically.

She gave me the death stare while walking towards me and grabbed my bowl.

"Hey, I'm not done." I shouted.

"You are now. Get your butt to school." She spoke while putting my dish in the sink.

I grab my back pack and walk towards my Dad and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for the back-up, butthead." I said.

"Have a good day at school pretty kid." He said, while smiling.

"Yeah, have a good day, Max." My Mom shouted towards the door.

"Bye, love you guys." I yelled and then shut the front door and headed to my bus stop.


I walked to my usual, lone bus stop and waited. Then I waited a little more. My bus stop wait mostly consisted of me pacing back and forth, jumping over cracks, sitting down and pulling out the grass, and then pulling out the iPod for a jam session. But, today was different because today I talked to a man. It was the guy who was moving in across the street. As I saw him walk over, I stood up from the ground, dusting my self off.

"Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I'm Max Evans." I said, putting my hand out. He shook it back.

"Nice to meet you, Max Evans, I'm John Ryan. I've got a daughter about your age and I haven't enrolled her into school yet. What school do you go to?" He asked politely.

"Well, I'm in 8th grade at Tree Hill Elementary School, but, school is out for the summer in 7 days, so you might want to wait to enroll her in the Fall. She can just be lucky and start her summer early. That's if you're a cool Dad." I said jokingly. His eyes somewhat glazed over for a second, which kind of freaked me out, but then he smiled.

"You know what? You're right, Summer is just around the corner. I don't know what I'm thinking." He said, scratching his head.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Max. I'll let you get on to school." He said about to turn around and walk away, but I stopped him.

"Hey, what's your daughter's name?" I asked out of curiosity. It seemed as though he was stalling. Almost as if he forgot his own kid's name.

"Annie. Her names' Annie." He spoke of her name gently, like he really cared about her.

"Well, John Ryan, if Annie ever wants to come over and hang out, I live in that house right there." I said to him, pointing to my house across the street.

"Well, she's staying at her Mother's until I get this place all fixed up and get us moved in, but thank you, Max. Annie would have, I mean would probably love to come over. She always has a hard time making new friends. You seem like a good one to have." He smiled, putting his sunglasses over his eyes and walked back up to his house.

"Thanks." I muttered.

Once the conversation ended, my bus arrived and off to school I went. John Ryan seemed like a nice man, but there was something odd about him. Something didn't feel right when we were talking. He seemed as though he were sad, the whole time we spoke about his daughter. Maybe he doesn't see her much since she's at her Mom's house. He probably just misses her, I guess. I don't know, either way, I hope I get to hang out with Annie soon.


Annnnnd that would be chapter 1. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I'll try and make chapter 2 a little longer. I know you guys are dying to know who this John Ryan guy is aren't you! You'll find out soon enough! :)

Thanks,

-Jude