Chapter One – The Darkness – Tom's POV

I woke up slowly, glaring at my watch. 8:20. I decided that I could sleep for another hour, so I pulled my duvet over my head, dozing off again. The next thing I know, Harry's opened my door, and pulled duvet down. "Hey get up! Danny and Dougie want to go shopping for new instruments, you know what they like." Harry said.

I managed to open my eyes, finding the sun too bright, and closed them again. "I don't suppose there's a chance you would make your friend breakfast in bed, is there?" I said, looking at him pleadingly.

He rolled his eyes and said sarcastically "Yes of course, what paper would sir prefer, The Times, or The Guardian perhaps?" I had to laugh, he always was very quirky. "I would prefer The Times, and make it snappy!" I said, equally sarcastic. He just rolled his eyes again, he did that a lot actually, and said as he was walking out of my bedroom "Either way, get dressed; they want to go to the music shop you like in half an hour."

I got up and stumbled to my bathroom and got dressed. I tried to find my iPod, but before I had a chance, Dougie burst through my door. "Finally! You're ready, come on, we're waiting in the car!" He threw my car keys at me. "Sorry to have kept you waiting!" I said sarcastically, following him out of the house. Stopping to lock the door.

When we arrived at the shop, Danny and Dougie went to go look for guitars and basses at the back of the shop. Harry went to the corner where they sold drums. I went upstairs to the CDs and records section. After ten minutes I had picked up an armful of Beach Boys albums, and I was about to go downstairs and pay for them, but as I turned round I bumped into a man in a black hoodie.

He was standing right behind me, "Sorry, I didn't see you there!" I apologised, bending down to pick up the CDs. He didn't move, he was right in my face. "Excuse me, could you move just a little bit, please?" I asked, as I picked them up, he still didn't move. When I stood up again, he started muttering, I still could not see his face, shrouded by the hoodie. "Sorry?" I asked, not knowing if he was speaking to me.

"Oh, um.." I realised he was muttering to himself, "Can I just squeeze past you? I need to pay for these." I gestured to the CDs in my hand, and tried to walk past him. He moved to stop me, "Hey!" I said, confused by his actions. With one swift move, he shoved my back into the shelves, CDs flying everywhere. My head connected with the metal shelves with a thump, and I slid down to the floor in pain. My vision was fuzzy, but I could still see his blurry form, he was shaking with misplaced anger. What could I of done? I tried to call out for help but all that passed my lips was an incoherent slur of words. He turned to face me, his muttering becoming audible now.

"They're following me, they can see me now! They're everywhere! Why do they want me!" He was shouting now. I tried calling for help again, feeling blood trickle down my face, as I lay slumped against the shelf, paralysed with fear and pain. "Shut up, Shut up! They'll find me!" He screamed, pulling something from his pocket. I saw that it was a knife and a wave of uncertainty and freezing cold fear washed over me.

"No, please, please!" I begged, trying to prop myself up against the shelf, feeling dizzy from my concussion. "Please, no!" I shouted at his relentless approach. He shouted at me "Shut up , SHUT UP!" He threw himself at me with the knife. At first, I didn't feel pain, just cold from the harsh metal of the blade on my stomach. No, this just is not happening. From the cold blade, spread a dull throbbing pain. I looked down to see the blade was imbedded in my stomach, next to my bellybutton. Blood was pouring out, and it confirmed what was certain.

The pain was getting worse, and I was breathing through gritted teeth. The man just pulled his knife out of me, and blood spurted out of the space. I howled in pain. It was the worst pain I've ever experienced. He plunged the knife down again in my chest, and I screamed again. I could barely see now, the blood from my head wound trickling by me eyes.

The last thing I thought I would ever see was him pulling his knife out and stumbling downstairs. I was finding it hard to breathe; I was shaking quite a lot now. The pain became unbearable and I felt cold, so cold. Thankfully at the otherwise grim prospect that this will all be over soon. My vision blurred over, I couldn't even call for help, and I couldn't breathe anymore. My eyes closed, and I knew what was happening, I was dying, and no one could help, no one knew what had happened.

Soon after I lost all thought, my mind was blank, darkness was invading me, and over the pain, I welcomed it.