The cold January breeze raised goose bumps along my arm. I shivered, but not so much from the chilliness. I had this strange feeling, like someone was watching me. I looked around, but didn't see anything or anyone. The leaves on the trees rustled, and with the sky darkening and the moon coming out, it was the perfect scene for a scary movie.
Being on the second story balcony, I could see over the back yard fence, over the grassy field that was unkept and seemed to go on forever, all the way to the playground at Summer Park.
The door opened, and my best friend, Alana, poked her blonde head out onto the balcony. "You coming inside? Or are you going to stand out here and freeze to death?"
It actually wasn't that cold out. Alana was just one of those people that always seemed to be cold, no matter what.
I followed her back into her room. Music was playing softly from her laptop, and she had homework strewn across her queen-size bed.
Her room was probably the size of my entire apartment put together. She got to have the master bedroom as her room because her parents had converted the basement into a room, and they wanted that one.
I plopped down on her bed, and lied on my back, staring at the ceiling.
"What's wrong, Kay?" Alana asked, chewing on the end of her pencil. She had that bad habit of chewing on things when she was thinking.
"I don't know. I've just had this weird feeling all day."
"Ohh," she said, interested, "like what kind of feeling?"
I thought for a moment. "Like the kind you get right before a thunderstorm," I explained.
"Great, you can predict the weather. At least now you know that you have a career as a weather-woman," she joked.
I smiled. "I mean the type of feeling where you can tell something's about to happen, but you just don't really know what."
"Hm. Interesting."
There was a pounding at the door. "Alana! Kira! Mom wants you downstairs!" It was Alana's little sister, Aimee. She was seven, and referred to me as her older sister. It made sense, since Alana and I had been friends since the beginning of seventh grade, when her older sister was dating my older brother. Their relationship only lasted a month and a half, but Alana and my friendship had endured the past three years. I practically lived at Alana's house.
We both groaned in unison, but got up anyways.
When we got down to the kitchen, Alana's mom, Nora, was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the screen of her laptop with a worried expression on her wrinkle-free face.
"What's up, Mom?" Alana asked.
Just then, Aimee came into the kitchen. "Mommy, I'm hungry. When's dinner?"
"When your father gets home from work," Nora answered, without taking her eyes off the screen.
"When's daddy coming home?"
"Aimee!" Nora snapped. "You know how to tell time, and you know he gets home around six. You don't need me to figure it out for you."
Aimee's hazel eyes got wide, and her lower lip jutted out.
Nora sighed, and went over to Aimee. "I'm sorry, honey. Mommy's just stressed. Your dad will be home soon. Please go watch TV or play in your room for a little bit, okay?"
Aimee's face lit up at the prospect of watching TV. Nora tried to keep Aimee's watching TV to a minimum, because she didn't want her to turn into a couch potato.
"Sit down, girls," Nora said as she went back to her seat.
" . . . Are we in trouble?" Alana asked. I admit, I was thinking the same thing. Nora was really somber, and usually she's very eccentric and bubbly.
We did as we were told, and sat down on one side of the table. Nora was sitting across from us.
"No, not at all." Nora smiled faintly. "I don't know how to say this, so I'm not going to beat around the bush. Two of your classmates were found dead."
"Wait, what? Who?" Alana asked.
Nora turned the laptop so that we could see the screen.
Two Dear Valley High students' bodies were discovered this morning when a woman on a morning run saw their bodies in a ditch along the roadside.
When the coroner arrived at the scene, she was able to identify the bodies by their ID cards.
"The bodies were badly mutilated. On first thought, it seems that they were killed by a human, dumped on the side of the road, and then torn apart by an animal of some sort. I won't know for sure, though, until I do a thorough examination."
The names of the students have not yet been released
Alana pushed the computer back towards her mom. "I can't read anymore," she said, her voice catching in her throat.
"That's horrible," I said, in complete awe.
My thoughts were soaring through my head at a million miles per hour. I was glad that I was sitting down, because I probably would have fallen over if I wasn't.
"And we don't know who it is?" Alana asked her mom.
"No," Nora answered, "but I'm sure when you go to school you'll know."
"Stuff like this doesn't happen in Dear Valley," I announced, after a pause. "And especially not to high school students. People that we know, and probably have classes with."
"It always seems that way, until it happens," Nora said in a soft voice, putting a comforting hand on my arm. "Trust me, girls, I understand. And we, as a community, will get through this."
We nodded. "I just really want to know who it was," Alana admitted.
"Yeah," I agreed.
"Listen, girls, they think the students were murdered. They have no clues leading to who could have possibly done this, so I want you guys to be really, really careful. This could have just been a fluke, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
Just then, Alana's dad walked through the door, bringing an air of lightness about him. He saw us all sitting at the table, which was pretty odd, and walked slowly into the kitchen. He had a five o' clock shadow and short salt-and-pepper hair.
"Hey, dad," Alana said.
"Hi, Patrick." I gave a little wave.
"Hey, honey," Nora said. Usually, she would give him a little kiss to welcome him home, but she didn't budge from her chair.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He obviously sensed that something was wrong, and he was completely right.
"You haven't heard?" Nora asked him.
"Heard about what?"
"Two -"
Alana cut her mom off. "I can't hear this again. I'm going upstairs."
"I'm coming with," I said, and followed her up the stairs.
When we got to her room, we closed the door, but we could still hear her parents' hushed voices.
"This is really surreal," I said, falling back onto her bed again.
Alana closed her binder and her textbooks, and turned off the music that had been playing on her laptop. She put her things on the floor so that there would be more room to lay.
"I know we were going to have a movie marathon and everything tonight . . ." she started.
"I'm not really feeling up to it, either," I said, smiling at her. I practically read her mind; I could tell by the expression on her face.
My phone started ringing, the Rocky Votolado ringtone breaking through the silence in the room. I went over to my school bag, and grabbed my cell out of it.
"Hello?"
"Kira, it's your mom."
"I know. Caller I.D.," I said, with more than a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
Usually my mom would bitch at me and tell me to watch my attitude, but this time she clearly had something else on her mind, but she completely ignored my comment. "I want you to come home now," she said.
"Why?"
"Have you heard about the students found -"
"Yeah, Mom. I have. I really don't want to think about it though. What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'd feel much more comfortable if you came home tonight."
"But -"
"Please," she pleaded, "do this one thing for me. I don't want to scare you, but there is a murderer walking around out there. I'd feel much more comfortable if you were with me tonight."
I sighed. "Alright. I understand."
"Do you want me to come pick you up?" she asked. Her voice was filled with worry.
"Mom, I'm perfectly capable of driving myself home."
"I know, honey. I'm sorry."
"I'll be home in ten minutes," I said.
"Drive extra extra safe. I love you."
"Love you, too." I hung up, and turned to Alana, who was laying on her bed with her eyes closed. I knew she wasn't sleeping though; she was just resting. "My mom wants me to come home," I said. "Sorry."
"No, I get it. Call me when you get home, 'kay?"
"Will do."
We gathered my backpack, and I walked downstairs. I told Nora and Patrick what was going on, and they wished me a safe drive home. "See you soon," Nora called out just as I closed the door.
Even though the odds of a killer leaping out at me and attacking me were slim to none, I still couldn't help feeling paranoid. I glanced around as I hit the "unlock" button to my new used car, which was my aunt's old Toyota 4Runner. I received it as a present for my sixteenth birthday a month ago, in January.
As soon as I got in the car, I locked the doors, and just sat there for a second, keys in hand.
I was still in shock that two of my classmates were dead. By tomorrow, I was going to know who it was, and I wasn't sure I was ready to find out.
Right as I was about to turn on my car, I got the feeling again. It gave me the chills and raised the little hairs on my arm.
I decided to attribute the creepy feeling to the news that I just learned, and the chills to the fact that it was chilly out. I was trying to convince myself that I was just being paranoid, but I didn't really believe it.