Hey! This crazy idea came into my head while listening to Paloma Faith's Fall to Grace (AMAZING album btw) after reading the poem The Road Not Taken. I haven't written the other chapters yet but I have an idea of where this will going, don't worry I wrote it down so I don't forget!
Hope you enjoy :)
I stood there; in the middle of the living room. My brain slowly processing what was said to me. Jason was no wear in sight. "Probably still out trying to get laid," I thought.
My mother quietly in the corner; head down, shoulders slumped, hands clasped nervously together. My father, boldly standing in front of me, arms around a tall boy. And me. Standing there, feeling light headed, torso going numb, fingers and toes twitching; finally processing what I heard.
He couldn't be serious could he? No. Not my father. He's always serious...and drunk. The tall boy walked toward me. Something in me shifted, turning my flushed face into stone. I always considered him as an enemy in front an audience, but behind closed doors it was different. My hatred was still there but it was buried underneath something... something that I never understood. Not even now.
Feeling arms going around my cold shoulder, lips caressing my cheek, I began to focus on my father's face... trying to read it. Happiness, triumph, and a slight hint of 'good riddance'. Then I felt a cold hand on my upper arm, "Honey?" my mother asked.
"So? What do you think?" My father ignoring my mother's concern, "Surprise!"
Surprise? Surprise? Funny joke Dad, sorry it flopped like a lead balloon.
"Ummm…," I began to reply but stopped, lost in thought.
"I know, I know. You can thank me later. Who knew this could be the best day for you Eve?" Father continuing to ramble on, clearly not noticing my feelings- he is truly thicker than I expected. "Finally, the big moment has arrived. It will be next month so you don't change your mind. You are happy Eve?"
I felt all three pairs of eyes looking at me, waiting for my answer. I couldn't meet any of them, my father's especially. I could feel his glare piercing my head, hammering words into my brain. Don't defy me, or there will be trouble.
"Ummm... Y-yeah s-sure," stammering my forced words and plastering a fake smile on my face, trying to hide what I really felt. Hatred, fear and defeat. I know
"Excellent! We must start planning! Come along Brandon, you and I are going to have a long talk. You're the best person I would like to have as a son in law," My father bubbles up and steers the tall boy towards the front door, leaving me with my mother. What just happened? What has my father done? Doesn't he understand? The last few minutes were painful, surprising, and fearful.
At last it sinks in.
I stared at my mother, tears tempting to spill. I let them. Forget this. They ran warmly over my cheeks and into my t-shirt. Covering my hand over my mouth, I let out a sob. What has he done? Running out of the living room, up the stairs and into my bedroom, I slammed the door shut. With my back against the cold, wooden surface of my door, I loudly began to cry, letting the emotion take over my body, letting painful images flash through my mind, reminding me of what just happened down stairs. What my father has arranged for me without my permission or notice.
I am getting married in a month and I am only sixteen. To someone who is... "Jesus Christ...I am getting married to vampire".
My parents know that. I cried even louder as I reconsidered my situation, sliding downwards to my bedroom floor to rest my shaking legs, allowing time to slip. Not caring for anything or anyone.
I quickly formed a plan.
I looked at my red digital alarm clock on my bedside table; 1:01AM it read. I needed to leave now or the opportunity won't arise again- I know that as a fact. Rapidly but silently I started packing stuff into my backpack; some clothes, money (thank God I saved up), toiletries- anything essential. While I was rummaging through my pathetic excuse of a wardrobe and dumping my things into the backpack, I came upon a piece of paper, crinkled. I opened it. The paper had a poem written on it; The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost. My class had studied it during our English lessons. What was it doing here? I read it, absorbing what was written;
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down ones as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear.
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
After finishing reading the poem, I realised I was crying. Thinking to myself, I noted down on the wet, crinkled paper, "So much with promises". With that, I swiftly took my escape through my bedroom window into the dark summer night of Morganville. Never looking back as I made my way down the unlit street.
Half way up the street I felt a cold presence behind me. My mental guard went up, already I was in enough trouble and full of anger and disappointment that I could not let anything get to me before I made it to... shit. The only place is Michael's house. Shane has a sister and his place isn't the best of places to be, like my mine. One thing we have in common. That and the fact that we bicker at each other like toddlers. Those were moments of bliss that I defend my life on. The moments where all three of our worries would cease to exist in this pitiful town.
Michael's house is the last place they, my parents, will look for me. The word parents sounded so sick to me and evil, but I knew worse things. Like the thing behind me. Its foul breath tickled my ear, already I knew who it was yet that does not mean that I could let down my guard; in Morganville that was a bad idea unless you wanted a death wish.
My voice cold with emotion, "What do you want Brandon?"
"How did you know Tink?" he replied, his voice full of mockery and arrogance.
"Your breath smells like rot no wonder you need to glamour people into liking you. Oh and by the way my name is-"
By the time I turned to face Brandon he pushed me against a wall with a strong grip on my upper left arm. So I did what any sane person would do in the hands of a vampire,
"Let go of me! No need to be pushy. We can talk this through like real… people".
Negotiate.
"Real funny Tink. I just want to talk."
"What do you want? If you wanted to kill me you would have done it by now." Gasping for air from the pain that consuming me in black hotness.
"You know I would appreciate it if you let go." Hint Hint. Wink wink.
Luckily for me this arrogant vampire understands hidden meanings for he slowly let go and backed away. Silent minutes ticked by as I waited for Brandon to make his next move while rubbing my arm.
"Well if that is all, I will be going," carefully steading my voice and dragging my bag along with me past the silent vampire.
All of a sudden, I was shoved back towards the wall and felt Brandon place his lips gently onto mine. The sudden resulted allowed me to use my reflex. Gasping, I pushed him from me. We stood there staring at each other. A light breeze ruffled Brandon's dark hair and dark outfit. For a brief moment I saw a sparkle in his eyes. How beautiful they were... as dark as night. It took me a few more moments to get myself together, my anger began to boil. The longer I stood staring at the demon in the middle of this deserted street, the hotter my anger became, until it was ready to explode.
"ARE YOU CRAZY!" I yelled. I dropped my bag and dangerously advanced towards Brandon. I shoved him. Hard. "YOU BASTARD! JUST BECAUSE YOUR MY FAMILY PROTECTOR DOESN'T MEAN YOU GET TO GOD DAMN KISS ME!" By now, he was the one being corned as I was advancing towards him, shoving him every now and then.
"Look who is in control now" I gleefully thought. Clearly he saw that thought pass, the brief flask of smugness in my eye, because his hand shot out as I was about to give another blow to the shoulder.
"I think you are forgetting something," he hinted cooly. Gasping as he pulled me closely towards him, he whispered: "I think you are forgetting that we are now engaged, my dear Tink. Considering how merciful I am, this arrangement won't leave MY house. Okay? Now go home before someone else decided to snack on you".
Cold hearted determination proudly took its stance within his black coloured eyes. I knew that I couldn't get away from him, not now.
"Well I do have a month"
"Fine. Let go. Just don't think this is my last battle, you haven't won the war. Nearly leaping back, when he ungrasped me, I snatched my bag from the ground I took off back towards my home. Fear slowly crept into my heart and hatred began to nest, I remembered that last lines of the poem:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.
So... what do you think? This is kind of a sampler, so if you want more let me know by reviewing! Also, if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes I don't mind if you mention it (calmly) in the reviews.
BlackSapphire xx