Okay, so hi! This is my first attempt at fanfiction and I've had this idea in my head for rather a long time. I hope you like it and you'll have to bear with it for the moment because it may not seem like fanfiction to you yet! Hope you enjoy it and please review
"Oh come on, exams are over now, it's not like you need to rush home or anything is it?" I roll my eyes at Tim.
We're standing next to the parting point of our walk back from school. It's out in the open, in plain view; no hiding places. Not that there needs to be any hiding places or anything…but out in an open field, well, anything could be watching you. I quickly skim my eyes over my surroundings.
"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice suddenly dropping the playful tone. I look back at him and force a smile onto my face.
"Nothing, nothing at all," I murmur non-convincingly. I look over my shoulder again. Nothing.
"You sure, because you sure look skittish."
"I do not look skittish…"
"Boo!" he yells. I scream and clutch at my thumping heart.
"Don't do that to me!" I smack his arm and stalk off in the opposite direction. He grabs my arm.
"Oh come on, I was just messing with you, you take things way to seriously…"
"Get off of me Timothy!" I push his arm off of me and start to run towards home. He pursues me, continuing to shout apologies mingled with insults. I reach my door and slam it shut just as he turns the corner into my drive. I lock the oak door, bolting the lock at the bottom and top. He starts to thump on the other side of the door.
"Oh for fucks sake open the door!"
"No Timothy, go away."
"Open the door!"
"Go away."
"Open the door!"
"FOR FUCKS SAKE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Silence. I drop my bag on the floor and fling my keys across the room. I glance at the hall mirror opposite the door. My dark hair is windswept from my escapade and my cheeks are flushed. I wipe away a tear from my glassy eyes before stomping up the stairs.
I collapse on my bed and sink into the soft mattress. My head hurts. Everything hurts in fact. Why can't he just understand? But then again…what is there to comprehend? I don't know… I just don't. My eyes fall on the book on my bedside table and I grab it. It's 'Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows'. This must be the fifth time I'm reading it; I practically know it back to front. I pick it up and start to thumb for my favourite chapter, 'The Prince's Tale.' I start to read it, my brain sinking into a stupor. THUMP. I drop the novel and my head snaps to the window. Nothing. I take a deep breath, slide off the bed and tiptoe to the sheet of glass. I peer down into the dimly lit street. Nothing. Just my overactive imagination. I turn around and unbutton my jacket tossing it onto the wicker armchair by my bookcase. THUMP. I spin round and run back over to the window. Nothing….again. Did I really just imagine that? I must have…yes definitely. Or maybe it's just a dog or large cat or something. It must have fallen into a dustbin or knocked a dustbin over or…POP. The streetlight goes out and an overwhelming wave of fear falls on me. I swing the curtains closed violently, but not before I see the cloaked figure standing on the road.
"Hey, this is Emmie Stanton. Please leave a message after the beep, thanks. Oh and also if this is Tim, don't bother wasting my time because I don't care. Thanks!"
"Yeah, hey it's me…Tim…I know you don't want to talk to me, but can you just pick up or phone me back…or something, thanks, bye."
I delete the message straight away and turn up the volume on the television again. Nothing particularly on at all. I don't want to watch TV either, but I'm getting bored of sitting around doing nothing. My phone rings again, I glance at the caller ID. Dad. I sigh and press mute on the TV before answering it.
"Hey Dad, how are you?"
"I'm fine Ems, how are you?"
"Alright I guess."
"Alright you guess? I'll just take that as a no."
"Thanks Dad." Awkward silence. "So why were you calling?"
"Oh yeah…I'm going to be in Australia for another month, do you think you can cope?" No. No I can't cope.
"Yeah, sure I'll be fine, you just enjoy yourself."
"I will sweetie and I'll probably call, you later about visiting okay?"
"Um okay…"
"You don't want to come?"
No I don't want to go to bloody Australia, I want you to come home and look after me like you're meant to.
"Um, I don't know really, I've got a lot on here…"
"That's fine then and as I said I'll call you again at some point this week. Have you got enough food in the house?"
"Dad, it's not like I don't know how to use a credit card is it?"
"No, I guess not, well bye then and enjoy yourself."
"I will and I love you Dad."
"Alright then bye."
No 'I love you'. Bloody father. I drop the phone onto the sofa and stretch my limbs. My stomach grumbles and I realise how hungry I am having not had dinner. I open the fridge and check the use by dates of everything. By the end of the routine check there is only a block of cheddar remaining. Oh great. Looks like a late night shopping trip is in order. I dump the rancid food in a bin liner and grab my bag off of the floor. The door keys are a bit harder to find. I spend five minutes scrambling down on my knees in the semi dark looking for them. I can't find then at all and the flickering light is doing no good. I really must get that bulb changed. I give up my search and instead head towards the spare keys cabinet. The light in the utility room is nonexistent so I use the torch off the side to help me rummage through the cupboard. I glimpse the key and grab it rejoicing at my unexpected discovery. I turn on my heel leaving the cabinet wide open and I slide into some boots. Right, keys? Check. Phone? I grab it off of the sofa and slide it into my bag. Check. Cash? Check. Okay then, off you go Emmie. I yank the door open and grab the bag of spoiled food just before slamming the door.
The streets are fairly quiet and the sound of the dustbin being closed echoes off of the opposite house. I start walking, heading to the off-licence about half a mile away. The bushes and trees cast large shadows on the street in front of me and I unconsciously avoid stepping on them. After about ten minutes of walking I hear soft footsteps. I freeze. Nothing. God, not this again. I do not need to be paranoid right now in the middle of the night. I force myself to start walking again, but my pace increases. The shuffling gets louder so I speed up and before I know it I'm running. I turn left taking a shortcut through the field. Openness. An open field. Yes, that's it, head towards the open. I do, I run as fast as my muscles let me. They scream in protest but I don't stop. I must reach the field and then I trip over my feet, flying forward. My handbag is thrown off of my arm and I feel my knees and elbows graze as I try to break my fall. I grit my teeth as I feel concrete tear into my skin. I can't stop now. No, I can't. I have to keep going. Shit, that really does hurt. I stumble as I lift myself back onto my feet, but I manage to grab my bag. I hear a snarl behind me and whirl round. No one. My head pounds, so does my heart. I strain my eyes into the darkness attempting to see someone, something. Several minutes pass but I continue to stare out into the inky darkness. My eyelids start to droop. My knees, they really do hurt. I should probably clear them up or something like that…I brush my hair behind me ears. I'm beyond caring now. Fear is out of my mind. I feel eyes burning into my back, but I brush off the sensation and stumble towards home and my bed.
REVIEW! (It would be much appreciated)