Okay everyone, this is just something that I was thinking and decided to write down. I know it's short, but bear with me. Also, updating might be a little slow because I have my other two stories and school just started up again.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Darkest Powers
Background info: Lauren took Chloe to California after the fall of the Edison Group. She hasn't heard from anybody since. She is 19, just finishing her first year of college.
Stepping out of my car, I reached inside and grabbed my bag. Shutting the door quietly, I began to walk to the front door. Searching my bag for my key, I stopped in front of the door. Searching the entire bag, I couldn't find the key. Turning around, I scanned the ground to see if I dropped it. Nothing. Sighing, I reached up to the hanging pot of flowers next to the door and grabbed the spare. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside quietly shut the door. Nobody would be home, but I did it out of habit. Setting the key down on the table, I put my bag on the floor. Turning around to lock the door, I heard something. Turning around, I looked around the dark room, but saw nothing. Craning my head to look around the corner, all I saw was dark. Shrugging it off, I turned back to the door. As soon as my hand touched the lock, I heard it again. This time I knew I heard something. Forgetting the lock, I took a step forward and strained my eyes trying to see if I could find anything. Stopping, I took a deep breath and waited, listening. Upstairs. There's something, or someone, upstairs. A burglar? No, it can't be. The door is locked. Dad? He isn't supposed to be home until Friday. But he could have come home early and forgotten to call.
Letting out a shuddering laugh, I tried to get my heart back to normal. That's it. He's home early. Walking to the stairs, I climbed the first step and said, "Dad? Is that you?"
No answer. Maybe he has his door shut and can't hear me.
"Dad?" I said louder, continuing to climb the stairs. "Are you home early?"
Still no answer. Maybe he is asleep. Slowly heading toward his bedroom, I said again, "Dad?"
A noise came from behind me. Pivoting on my heel, I searched the dark, my heart racing. My breathing became erratic as I strained to hear the noise again. It was coming from the study. Taking a step forward, I continued to listen. A squeak. Like a sneaker against tile. Maybe dad is in the study. Stopping in my tracks, I realized my mistake. Dad doesn't wear sneakers.
Taking a deep breath, I crept to the study door and pressed my ear against it, listening for someone inside. Nothing. Reaching for the handle, I slowly turned and opened the door a crack. Peeking inside, I saw the desk light on. Opening the door more, I looked around. As I stepped into the room, I saw my dad sitting in his chair facing away from me. Letting out my breath, I smiled and said, "Couldn't hear me?"
No answer. My smile faltered. Creeping forward, I said, "Dad?"
Walking in front of the chair, I saw him sitting there with his eyes wide open, blank. My heart picking up, I said meekly, "Daddy?"
Eyes starting to burn, I took a step back and hit the desk, sending the lamp crashing to the floor, cracking the bulb and sending me into darkness. After a few seconds, my eyes starting to focus enough to see shapes. Stepping forward, I slowly stepped around the chair and out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Leaning against it, I took a deep breath. Then I heard it again. The squeak. It was coming from downstairs now. Silently creeping to the stairs, I peeked around the corner and scanned the downstairs hall. All clear.
With every step down the stairs, I stopped and listened. When I reached the bottom step, I looked around the railing into the living room. Empty. Walking in, I looked around for the owner of the sneaker. As I stood in the middle of the room, I looked at the window, seeing the rain coming down by the ton. Hearing the squeak behind me, I froze. Slowly turning, I looked through the glass door which separated the living room from the dining room. Standing on the other side was someone dressed entirely in black. My heart beating so loudly, I saw the glass shatter and felt the bullet hit my arm, the sound never making it to my ears. Holding my arm, I spun and ran for the door. As I retched the door open, I felt the shooter at my side. Before they could grab me, I slammed the door into them, sending them backward. Running at full speed, I made it to my car and started the engine. Shifting into reverse, I pulled out of the driveway and sped away.
As I drove down the empty highway, the rain pelting my windshield, my wipers barely able to keep up, the earlier events started to catch up with me. Slowing down, I pulled over to the side of the road and shut off my car. Taking a shuddering breath, I felt a sob escape. Running my hands through my hair, I leaned my head in my lap. Breathing deeply, I let my heart calm down.
My dad is dead. Murdered. And I was almost killed by the same person. I couldn't think about how or who. All that came to my mind was, why? My life had been normal since my aunt convinced my dad to move us to California after incident with the Edison Group. I saw a ghost now and then, but besides that, life was normal. So why now?
Feeling a throbbing pain, I looked over at my right arm. At the top, just below the shoulder, was a hole. Blood soaked the sleeve. I was shot. But, this isn't the first time. Pulling myself straight, I remembered the last time I was shot. Four years ago. And when it happened, I had someone to help me. And that someone is exactly the person I need. He can help me. I know he can.
As I restarted the car, I pulled back onto the highway and drove toward the lights of a town ahead to find a computer. As I drove, I thought about the shooter. The only thing that struck me as odd was, when they had tried to grab me, I had caught a faint aroma of ash and burnt hair.
I know it might be a little confusing, but don't worry, everything will be explained. Any questions are really appreciated. See ya next chapter!
