Disclaimer: I do not own Anything from "A Nightmare on Elm Street." (Or Frankenstein). I guess accept the looks of Loretta I have based off myself. This is my first story, and I will continue if the people want it. If you think I should continue, please tell me. Well *deep breath*...here goes nothing.
I assume when you hear Freddy Krueger, you see a guy, horribly burned, red and green sweater, brown fedora, and let's not forget that razor-fingered glove. Well when I hear Freddy Krueger, I see the tall, red-headed, evil-minded teenager I met when I was 16. You know that game "marry, fuck, or kill?" Well Fred did all three to me. My name is Loretta Krueger…and this is how I died…
I wouldn't call myself a beautiful girl when I was 15; I was slightly overweight and was extremely short (5'2" to be exact). I was a loner…I may have had friends (more like just acquaintances), but I always felt alone. My style wasn't too bad; I usually wore black shirts with jeans…whatever was comfortable and affordable. I didn't look bad or anything; I just wore simple, 'okay' looking clothes.
To tell you the truth, I hated being 15. No friends, no love life, no one to talk to…just me, my drawings, and my books. My parents didn't care. When I turned nine, Mom took off and left me behind. Dad was a drunk and always cheated on Mom. That's most likely part of the reason why she left us. But now-a-days Dad wasn't all bad; he just didn't really acknowledge that I existed sometimes. It was kind of like an "Oh yeah, I have a kid" thing. He didn't drink (that much) anymore and he wasn't so aggressive and angry: Mom leaving hit him pretty hard.
I was to be 16 in a month. I sat in the local coffee shop, reading Frankenstein. What a twisted story…I was one for sick, twisted things. I may not have shown it, but I was. I put down the book and took a sip of my coffee. The fresh-ground, steaming smell of coffee filled the shop…the aroma filling my senses, inhaling it deep into my lungs.
I looked around the shop briefly, seeing who else was there; just me and some other guy. He looked about 18 to 20 years old…not too bad looking either. He had the most intense, deep red hair I had ever seen that stopped at his ears in smooth soft curls. I couldn't see his eyes since he was looking—no, staring…staring intensely—at the wall as if trying to obliterate it with his mind. He didn't blink until he brought the cup of coffee in his hands, to his mouth, sipped it, and then continued to glare at the wall.
Dark…mysterious…sexy…
I looked away before he could catch my eyes, but I think he knew I was studying him. I put down my coffee, picked up my book and tried to find my place. I looked up again to see if he was watching me…he was. He raised his eyebrows at me. Nervous on the inside, I looked out the window next to me and then back down at my book. I couldn't find my place but I at least pretended to.
After I finished my coffee with one final swig, I stood up with the help of the table and returned the mug to the lady at the counter and turned to leave. I didn't stop, but I did stare…he stared back. We eyed each other as I walked out the door into the chilly morning air.
After I snapped out of my swooning faze, I realized how cold it really was. 'Jesus,' I thought, pulling my black sweat-jacket closed over my front. It was foggy too. At least my feet were warm, snug in my black, knee-high boots.
Once I got home, I went straight up to my room. Dad wasn't home. I pushed open the door and shut it behind me. Even with no one home, I feel weird getting dressed with the door open. I took off my sweat-jacket and my shirt and grabbed one of Dad's oversized sweatshirts. He didn't care that I used them. After hugging my self, trying to warm up, I sat on my bed and unzipped my boots, leaving my socks on. I emptied the pockets of my jeans and dropped the coins from the change of my coffee in a jar. After discovering I had no clean sweatpants, I just crawled into bed with the sweatshirt. I rubbed my hands together under the covers and then rubbed my legs. 'I need to shave,' I thought as I felt the little hairs on my legs.
After a while, I felt my body warming up. I reached my hand out from under the covers and felt around for my book on my night stand…I felt nothing. I poked my head out of the covers and looked for it…not on my nightstand. Maybe it fell on the floor? I looked over the edge of my bed on the ground…not there either. "Oh…shit," I said aloud, groaning as I realized where it was. I had left it at the coffee shop, open, laying on the table. 'Oh I hope they still have it.' I'd go get it later…right now, I just needed some sleep...rather a nap. Thanks to the caffeine, I dosed off easily.