This is my very first fan fiction, so don't criticize me too much
This is my very first fan fiction, so don't criticize me too much. ('';) Although, I have had some practice by role playing. So ANYWAY, if you've never ever in your life read Midnight by Dean Koontz this story will make you confused in a way. But you can read if you want. Enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
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A light breeze entered through the open window, gracefully fluttering the curtains surrounding the frame. It moved through the room silently, passing the small couch on the side of the wall where a small white-haired youth slept. He shivered as it jostled his messy hair. His grip tightened on the robotic toy he clung to. The boy shifted slightly, sighing heavily.
The room had been quiet for hours. The only noise breaking it was the breathing of the boy. That and the humming of the old computer across the room, which was the only source of light found in the room. Everything was illuminated in a subtle blue light, giving it a mysterious look.
The youth shifted again. Yawning, his body stretched slowly as he moved upwards. His legs kicked off the blanket that was tightly wrapped around him. The child slowly scooted off of the pale couch.
Bang! Startled, the boy fell suddenly onto the cold concrete due to the loud noise issued by the wooden door. A woman in her late twenties stood at a few yards in front of him, her face dark and shallow. Her round eyes locked on the boy's for only a fraction of a second before they found the stove over in the corner. Her body drifted across the floor to where it was and her hands consciously began making pot, the drug that had caused so many problems.
"So," the woman started, "how was your day, Nate?" Her musky eyes still fixed on the stove and ingredients.
"Fine," the boy known as Nate murmured. He moved back onto the couch and began to twirl a strand of white hair with his index finger and thumb. A silent sigh escaped his pale lips.
A weird smell began to fill the small room. Nate wrinkled his nose in disgust.
The woman began to consume the pot slowly. She turned towards Nate, walking in swift strides over to the spot right next to him. She sat down, her weight causing him to tilt slightly.
A long pause erupted, only to be disturbed by the noises coming from the woman's mouth. After ten minutes of staring at the ivory wall across the room, Nate felt her heave herself off of the couch.
"Go back to sleep, Nate," she ordered rather dryly, her back facing him.
"Fine, mother," he murmured as his white-haired head hit the arm rest again. A few seconds later, his will gave into the pulse to close his eyes and forget his problems.
Nate's weary eyes opened to find a completely dark room. He forced his body upwards again and got off the couch. Hmph, he thought tiredly, where is she?
His stomach interrupted his trance of thought. Of course, he had forgotten about dinner, again. He barely got anything to eat, thus his thin figure.
His feet lead him to the door in which his mother slept. His lithe fingers grasped around the brass door knob. Carefully, he pulled it open; a creak issued from the hinges. His eyes widened in shock. Her room, usually lit up with either the television or the light coming from city, was unusually dark and intimidating.
Inhaling deeply, Nate stepped forward and reached for the light switch. In one fluid movement, he flicked it on and the entire room was illuminated.
His eyes widened even more in horror. His mother's body was dangling helplessly from the ceiling fan, a rope hung tightly around her neck.
No words were spoken from Nate's mouth as his eyes fluttered across the corpse of his deceased mother.
Ugh! You have no idea how many times I thought of how to start this idea. It'll get better as it goes. I promise…
Reviews and constructive criticism is welcome!
Please review though…I need it.