CHAPTER ONE OF THE GAMES THAT PLAY US.
JASPER.
It's raining and outside, travelling families are filling up on gas.
My feet splash in puddles as I run to the entrance of the small establishment.
The doorbell chimes as I push the glass door opened. I don't expect it to be so busy with how deserted it is but it is. Immediately I'm hit with a wall of bacon, smoke and french fries as the scent fills my lungs. Small children and dishes clanking together are loud and distinct with the radio on low in the background. Shaking off the rain, I slide my jacket off and place it on the back of the stool as I take a seat at the counter.
A small girl with black hair almost immediately walks over to me and greets me. Squinting, I read her name tag pinned onto her chest; "Alice."
Alice pulls a pencil out from behind her ear, "what can I get for you hon?"
"Coffee; black." I tell her with a cough.
She nods, "be right back."
While Alice disappears behind the swinging door, I look around the small diner—a family of four sits in a booth against the window, a young couple sits farther down the counter; he kisses her neck, while she laughs in his ear. A family of five sits behind me; three children playing in their milkshakes. In the back of the restaurant, sits a father and two sons; they sit without chatter, lips moving erratically as they waffle down stacks of pancakes.
Alice soon returns, placing a white mug of black liquid in front of me, "thanks."
"Anything else I can get for you?"
"Actually," turning in my seat, I dig through the pockets in my jacket—pulling out a piece of paper, I unfold it onto the counter. "Did you happen to see this girl in here, anytime in the last couple of months?"
The waitress picks up the paper and shakes her head, "she's beautiful though."
"Thanks," I smile knowingly. "I know."
"Who is she?"
"My sister—Rosalie."
"What happened to her?" Alice asks, "if you don't mind me asking?"
"I don't know," I pause without thought. "I'm hoping she's somewhere around here."
"—can I get some fucking service around here?"
Alice sighs annoyingly and turns; I follow her gaze, to see the father of the two young men waving his hand dramatically with a scowl on his face. The waitress before me, rolls her eyes and I offer her a comforting smile while she grabs her note pad and walks over to their booth.
For a couple minutes, I sit quietly and sip at my coffee.
Alice disappeared behind the swinging doors a while ago.
Ripping a small piece off of Rosalie's picture, I scribble my name and number and leave it on the counter, along with a couple dollar bills. Pushing my chair out, and slipping my jacket on, I quickly spin around—almost running directly into one of the younger boys from the booth.
"Sorry," I cough out.
He nods shyly, and places his hand on the door handle, when I stop him.
"Actually," I say and hand him the photo-copied picture of Rosalie. "You're about her age, have you seen this girl?"
"No," he says dismissively. "—sorry."
I raise a brow, "you didn't even look."
The kid in front of me, sighs before glancing up to meet my gaze for the first time since I stopped him—he only looks for a second, and quickly looks away. He glances down at the picture, and almost immediately his face goes pale and he visibly swallows.
Slowly, he shakes his head, "I haven't seen her."
Quickly shoving the picture back in my chest, he leaves the resturant and I let him go without a word.
"—what the fuck."
Clenching and unclenching my fists around my keys in my jacket pocket, I walk out into the rain—my head is down on the damp pavement. When I'm standing in front of my car, I glance at the three men, just as they get into their black truck and pull out of the parking lot.
As soon as the key is in the keyhole, someone taps my shoulder.
"—hey, excuse me?"
Two unfamiliar brunettes stand in front of me—the one with the glasses holds the umbrella over their head.
"We were wonder if you could help us?"
"We're a little lost," laughs the other girl.
"Sure," I murmur, glancing at the freeway just in time to watch the truck drive off in the distance. "—what do you need?"
"We're actually just trying to find the Hilden Motel," says the one with freckles and blue converse.
The one with glasses and blonde highlights finishes with, "my GSP sent us on a wild goose chase and the map says there is one around here somewhere; we just can't seem to find it."
"You must have missed it," I say sounding a little rushed. "It's a couple miles back. It's covered by trees, but it's there."
As I open the car door, the rain runs down my back.
"Thanks."
"No problem," I say as I hop into my car.
I never catch up to those people, but it doesn't stop me from speeding down the highway after them; something about them is off, I can feel it. I slow down at every turn off or road, but I don't see their car.
I've been driving for a half hour when I notice a dirt road coming up a head—it isn't marked, which seems suspicious to me. A chill runs down my spine, and I turn my blinkers on—signaling for a turn.
I'm driving down the deserted driveway, with nothing but the sound of the rain belting down on the roof of the car, the windshield wipers going at full speed and the rocks crunching under my ties. Driving down the dirt road, I see nothing but cars—visibly damaged cars and/or brand new cars.
When I finally pull up to the faded, paint-chipped, white house—realization hits me that this could be where my sister has been this whole time, and chills run down my spin, the blood rushes through my body, I almost feel dizzy.
Parking next to the black truck from the diner, I hop out of my car and look around. It almost looks like a junk yard with the miles upon miles of cars lined beside each other—the yard has different car parts scattered around the yard, along with the odd barn yard tool. From where I stand, I can see the top of a huge barn off in the distance behind the medium sized garage. An outhouse is on the forest line, and other than that—nothing but trees for hours.
Wasting no time, I'm up the stairs and standing in front of the chipped brown door.
Knocking, I almost immediately hear yelling and scuffing on the other side of the door.
The door quickly opens, and the boy from before—the red headed, green eyed teenager with his hood up from the diner (the boy I suspect knows about Rosalie's whereabouts), stands in front of me.
"Hi—"
"Run," he mouths, almost cutting me off.
"Wha—" I ask in confusion.
"Run," he says again; this time a little louder.
"But—"
And everything goes black.
A/N: I actually got this story idea off of an episode of Supernatural a while back. So, creds to that and SM.
The first and only Jasper chapter. The rest will be in Bella's POV. Story is completed, but posting schedule is unknown for now. Story will only be 7 chapters, including the epilogue, so it's pretty short—the chapters will be fairly short as well.
Review.