I'm just not very good at working on one story, am I? Sorry about that,
it's just that I get so many ideas, I don't want to forget them so I write
them. I'm also at a loss because of school. High school is a pain in the
neck. Anyway, I really have no idea why I'm writing. I have no ideas. But
as the story progresses, I'm sure something will twist a plot and it will
all pull together. We can hope. So, I'm going to be a little incoherent in
the beginning, as I try to form an idea, but I'm in a really strange mood
and want to write another mystery, and discontinue my other one. Sorry
about that. I'll write another chapter later. So, just begin to read the
story and enjoy it while stupidity swarms my mind.
Over the small town, was a crescent moon, accompanied by the splatter of stars that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Clouds threatened to cover it all, but that was okay. A light breeze blew, forcing leaves to scatter lifelessly across the deserted streets. The houses, lined so perfectly, contained little or no light, after all, it was pretty late. Street lamps provided light, revealing anything within its reach. Yet, some alleyways and roads were covered in their blanket of dark. An ordinary Wednesday. But in a single house, one light shone bright in a second story window. Somebody was still awake. Inside the brightly lit room, was a young boy. He sat at his desk, apparently frustrated. His small desk lamp on as well, it lit up his paper. Textbooks lay open everywhere. Highlighters of an assortment of colors rolled around, some falling off the desk, landing with a soft 'thump'. Wadded up papers indicated that he kept on messing up his work. A notebook lay open across his bed, filled with notes, highlighted in a bright yellow. Pens were tossed over the desk, and pencils lay in any other available space. He let out a sigh of depression, laying his head on his desk.
"I've been studying way to long to be so confused on this problem." He said, turning through pages of arithmetic. "This should be kid stuff, I learned this years ago!" He said, yawning afterwards. He pulled out a highlighter, marking a sentence. "I think that is important." He said, beads of sweat forming at his head. "This has put way to much stress on me. I'm taking a quick break." He pushed back gently on his chair, watching his work fall onto the floor. He sighed, "I'm going to fail that test." He said angrily, kicking some papers to release his anger. He walked almost silently across the room, and gently opened his window. The soft breeze blew inside, making his curtains dance in the air. The wind blew his dark brown locks fly around his face. It tickled his nose, and he let out a tiny sneeze. The beads of sweat had left, and now in their place were goosebumps. He stepped away from the window, shutting it only slightly. He turned to face his room; it was littered with papers and such. He took a deep breath, and began to clean. He began to stack the papers together, setting them aside. Highlighters made their home back into his backpack. Writing utensils were placed back into their holders. He was beginning to pick up the papers that were stacked on his desk, when a sudden blast of cold wind blew and made the papers flutter about. He was getting more angry than frustrated, and he went to secure the other papers in place. "Don't fall, don't fall." He whispered. But nothing ever went good for him, and the heavy pile slid from his hand, causing an unusually loud crash. He was a bit shaken up from the sudden noise, and he hoped nobody heard it. But he could hear something making it's way down the dark hall to his room. The door swung open, and an older man appeared.
"Kenji, you've really got to get to bed. It's late." He said, his dark brown hair slightly tousled. He was leaning through the doorway; his eyes halfway down. "You can clean this up in the morning. It'll be okay." He flashed a reassuring smile, but Kenji's face seemed to take on no emotion. The man slightly cocked his head, "You okay?" His brown hair covered the ever familiar X shaped scar. His brown eyes narrowed down on Kenji.
"Well, Yugo, I've got to a test to study for." Kenji said, leaning over, picking up the papers. Yugo glanced around, amazed at the papers spread across the floor. Kenji watched Yugo, "I've been busy." Yugo nodded his head, and took a breath to begin talking.
"Kenji, close your window. You'll catch a cold." Yugo said, walking in to shut the window. He stepped on a paper, and slid. He slammed his other foot down, only to have his stabled foot slide over a pencil. He fell down, causing papers to slide about. Yugo looked sheepishly at Kenji. "G'night Kenji. Close your window and get some sleep." Yugo said, standing up and walking out.
"Good night, Yugo." Kenji said, devastated by all the papers scattered around. "This will take me forever to clean." He leaned over, and pushed the papers under the desk. He shut off his desk lamp, then his room lights. He slid into bed, and turned onto his side. He grew annoyed, watching the curtains flutter in the air so freely, realizing that he was supposed to close the window. He flung the comforter off, and slid back out of bed. He sleepily dragged his feet across the rug, and looked at his window. It was the type that was meant to be pulled down, as the older models were, as where the newer models are pulled sideways. He rested his hands on the window, and looked out sleepily. He saw a person, running quickly on the sidewalk. They hid in the bushes on their property. A cloaked figure walked slowly down the sidewalk. Kenji was at first captivated, but quickly turned his attention away. He slowly began to pull down the window, when a glint caught his eye. 'Was that a knife?' Kenji thought, leaning slightly to see clearer. The figure stopped, 'Has he seen me?' Kenji thought, 'Maybe I should get to bed.' He back slowly backed away, and the figure seemed satisfied by Kenji's leaving. But Kenji did not leave; he was hiding on the side, spying. The figure held up the object that shone so bright. 'It is a knife. Just as I thought.' Kenji told himself. The cloaked figure reached into the bush, and the other flailed. Kenji was going to jump down, and try to help, but it all happened so quickly. The smaller one didn't even get to scream. The figure looked up to Kenji, and slid something onto a dagger. The figure threw it at Kenji's window, and the blade dug deeply into the wall opposite of the window. Kenji glanced at the dagger, and then back out to the figure. It was gone. Kenji quickly walked to the dagger, and tore it out. There was a piece of paper attached to it. Kenji slid it off, and unfolded it. He shook slightly; expecting it to be filled with anthrax or some sort of poison that got into the human body through skin.
'I'd run if I were you, boy. For you have till the bird caws at the peak of a new day.'
Kenji couldn't guess what to do or say. He looked out through the window; no body lay on the ground though. Only a pool of blood which would be washed away by the morning dew. He shut the window, and latched it. Laying on his bed, he sighed, 'I've got a new stalker.' He turned over, and whispered gently, "The crow caws at midnight."
Over the small town, was a crescent moon, accompanied by the splatter of stars that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Clouds threatened to cover it all, but that was okay. A light breeze blew, forcing leaves to scatter lifelessly across the deserted streets. The houses, lined so perfectly, contained little or no light, after all, it was pretty late. Street lamps provided light, revealing anything within its reach. Yet, some alleyways and roads were covered in their blanket of dark. An ordinary Wednesday. But in a single house, one light shone bright in a second story window. Somebody was still awake. Inside the brightly lit room, was a young boy. He sat at his desk, apparently frustrated. His small desk lamp on as well, it lit up his paper. Textbooks lay open everywhere. Highlighters of an assortment of colors rolled around, some falling off the desk, landing with a soft 'thump'. Wadded up papers indicated that he kept on messing up his work. A notebook lay open across his bed, filled with notes, highlighted in a bright yellow. Pens were tossed over the desk, and pencils lay in any other available space. He let out a sigh of depression, laying his head on his desk.
"I've been studying way to long to be so confused on this problem." He said, turning through pages of arithmetic. "This should be kid stuff, I learned this years ago!" He said, yawning afterwards. He pulled out a highlighter, marking a sentence. "I think that is important." He said, beads of sweat forming at his head. "This has put way to much stress on me. I'm taking a quick break." He pushed back gently on his chair, watching his work fall onto the floor. He sighed, "I'm going to fail that test." He said angrily, kicking some papers to release his anger. He walked almost silently across the room, and gently opened his window. The soft breeze blew inside, making his curtains dance in the air. The wind blew his dark brown locks fly around his face. It tickled his nose, and he let out a tiny sneeze. The beads of sweat had left, and now in their place were goosebumps. He stepped away from the window, shutting it only slightly. He turned to face his room; it was littered with papers and such. He took a deep breath, and began to clean. He began to stack the papers together, setting them aside. Highlighters made their home back into his backpack. Writing utensils were placed back into their holders. He was beginning to pick up the papers that were stacked on his desk, when a sudden blast of cold wind blew and made the papers flutter about. He was getting more angry than frustrated, and he went to secure the other papers in place. "Don't fall, don't fall." He whispered. But nothing ever went good for him, and the heavy pile slid from his hand, causing an unusually loud crash. He was a bit shaken up from the sudden noise, and he hoped nobody heard it. But he could hear something making it's way down the dark hall to his room. The door swung open, and an older man appeared.
"Kenji, you've really got to get to bed. It's late." He said, his dark brown hair slightly tousled. He was leaning through the doorway; his eyes halfway down. "You can clean this up in the morning. It'll be okay." He flashed a reassuring smile, but Kenji's face seemed to take on no emotion. The man slightly cocked his head, "You okay?" His brown hair covered the ever familiar X shaped scar. His brown eyes narrowed down on Kenji.
"Well, Yugo, I've got to a test to study for." Kenji said, leaning over, picking up the papers. Yugo glanced around, amazed at the papers spread across the floor. Kenji watched Yugo, "I've been busy." Yugo nodded his head, and took a breath to begin talking.
"Kenji, close your window. You'll catch a cold." Yugo said, walking in to shut the window. He stepped on a paper, and slid. He slammed his other foot down, only to have his stabled foot slide over a pencil. He fell down, causing papers to slide about. Yugo looked sheepishly at Kenji. "G'night Kenji. Close your window and get some sleep." Yugo said, standing up and walking out.
"Good night, Yugo." Kenji said, devastated by all the papers scattered around. "This will take me forever to clean." He leaned over, and pushed the papers under the desk. He shut off his desk lamp, then his room lights. He slid into bed, and turned onto his side. He grew annoyed, watching the curtains flutter in the air so freely, realizing that he was supposed to close the window. He flung the comforter off, and slid back out of bed. He sleepily dragged his feet across the rug, and looked at his window. It was the type that was meant to be pulled down, as the older models were, as where the newer models are pulled sideways. He rested his hands on the window, and looked out sleepily. He saw a person, running quickly on the sidewalk. They hid in the bushes on their property. A cloaked figure walked slowly down the sidewalk. Kenji was at first captivated, but quickly turned his attention away. He slowly began to pull down the window, when a glint caught his eye. 'Was that a knife?' Kenji thought, leaning slightly to see clearer. The figure stopped, 'Has he seen me?' Kenji thought, 'Maybe I should get to bed.' He back slowly backed away, and the figure seemed satisfied by Kenji's leaving. But Kenji did not leave; he was hiding on the side, spying. The figure held up the object that shone so bright. 'It is a knife. Just as I thought.' Kenji told himself. The cloaked figure reached into the bush, and the other flailed. Kenji was going to jump down, and try to help, but it all happened so quickly. The smaller one didn't even get to scream. The figure looked up to Kenji, and slid something onto a dagger. The figure threw it at Kenji's window, and the blade dug deeply into the wall opposite of the window. Kenji glanced at the dagger, and then back out to the figure. It was gone. Kenji quickly walked to the dagger, and tore it out. There was a piece of paper attached to it. Kenji slid it off, and unfolded it. He shook slightly; expecting it to be filled with anthrax or some sort of poison that got into the human body through skin.
'I'd run if I were you, boy. For you have till the bird caws at the peak of a new day.'
Kenji couldn't guess what to do or say. He looked out through the window; no body lay on the ground though. Only a pool of blood which would be washed away by the morning dew. He shut the window, and latched it. Laying on his bed, he sighed, 'I've got a new stalker.' He turned over, and whispered gently, "The crow caws at midnight."