Chapter Two..yep! TWO!
Authors Note: Yes, this again, don't you like my wonderful notes? I bet you do.
Anyway, the true graphic stuff happens later on..and yes, Jason is in this! You silly gooses!
*********
It was cold...very cold. A basement, much like her houses. She walks slowly at first,
the basment turnst into a seemingly endless hallway, to her left, on the walls, are black and white
"Missing Children" posters, from ages five to thirteen.
"One, two, Freddy's coming for you..."
As if by magic, she was infront of her home, it just looked differently. Older, worn out, version
of the house she was living in. Same address, 1428 Elm ST. She slowly turns around, hearing pair
of little girls, adorable little girls about seven, all in white, playing jump rope in the street.
"Three, four, better lock your door..."
Caitlin advanced forward to them, curiously. Strange, only a moment ago she was out side her English
class, as her mother had a disscussion to the teacher about her behavior. AS soon as she closed her eyes
she was here?
"Five, six, grab a crucifix.."
This little song, what ever you may call it, seemed so haunting to Caitlin. She stops dead for a moment,
as she feels something cold on her almost bare shoulder, a pare of long finger blades griped her bony
shoulder firmly, but not violently to where it might leave a mark.
"Seven, eight, better stay up late..."
So unlike her, she felt as if she were suffcating out of her fear, she feels hot breath caressing
menacingly on the back of her olive light skin of her neck.
"Nine, ten, never sleep again..."
"Hello, Princess..." the mans cold, dark raspy voice spoke into her hear as if a haunting
melody through out her body. Her eyes grew wide, her mouths opens up as if to scream,
but no sound comes out. Despite her mind telling her to keep still, she turns around to face the man that
was doing this to her. He was badly burnt. He whore a simple, yet dirty christmas sweater, faded brown pants
and a ferdona hat. The most disturbing piece of clothing that was on him, was the bladed glove.
"Who...are you?" she lets out a breathless whisper, unlike Marilyn Monroe, she was scared shitless.
"Your worst nightmare."
Caitlin jolts up in her desk, breathing heavily. She takes a look around the English room, mindlessly smoothing
down her hair. She turns to her teacher, and squeakly asks. "Can I go now?" Her breaths are labored, terrorfied.
Ms.Emerson just looks at the child, and nods her head.
*****
Sarah Morrigahn leans against her locker, her maroon painted eyes closed. She stayed after to practice
for band, she played the Violin. Pietro, the beautiful instruments name, was one of her only friends. She absent
mindedly hums the notes in her sweet soprano voice over and over, rehearsing them in her mind. She wears a
baby blue sleeveless shirt with one of those slits in the neck area, slogan: It's okay, I'm with the band' in white
jagged writing. Patchwork mini-skirt and knee-high leather boots.
She loved her violin, it was the only thing on this earth that ever understood her. The melody of strings, notes...
Beahtoven was her absolute favorite thing to play! His music, to her, was sensual. And when she played, she didn't
care about her problemes, she was in heaven.
Her thoughts were interupted by a teenage girls mumbling.
"That bitch...giving me a fucking F! I'll show her the unrespectful one!" No other than a pissed off, freaked out, and tired
Caitlin Burroughs says on the lock bank next to Sarah's. Sarah opens her eyes, cocking her eyebrow up into the air,
listening to the girl, who was a freshman, while she was a Sophmore at the God forsaken school.
Caitlin complains and vents on and on, fumbling with her combination lock. "Ten...fifteen...twenty?---NO! SHIT!" the fourteen year old growns.
All the sudden, a hand bangs against the faded green painted, and rusted, locker once, and as if on que, the locker opens.
Caitlin looked in awe at the uper classman standing before her, smirking. "Looked like you needed help."
She gives a sheepish smile, and shrugs as if nothing happened. "Hey..I'm Caitlin. You?" She asks, figuring to be nice to the girl,
after all, she did have good clothes.
"Sarah, want to see my violin?"
Authors Note: Yes, this again, don't you like my wonderful notes? I bet you do.
Anyway, the true graphic stuff happens later on..and yes, Jason is in this! You silly gooses!
*********
It was cold...very cold. A basement, much like her houses. She walks slowly at first,
the basment turnst into a seemingly endless hallway, to her left, on the walls, are black and white
"Missing Children" posters, from ages five to thirteen.
"One, two, Freddy's coming for you..."
As if by magic, she was infront of her home, it just looked differently. Older, worn out, version
of the house she was living in. Same address, 1428 Elm ST. She slowly turns around, hearing pair
of little girls, adorable little girls about seven, all in white, playing jump rope in the street.
"Three, four, better lock your door..."
Caitlin advanced forward to them, curiously. Strange, only a moment ago she was out side her English
class, as her mother had a disscussion to the teacher about her behavior. AS soon as she closed her eyes
she was here?
"Five, six, grab a crucifix.."
This little song, what ever you may call it, seemed so haunting to Caitlin. She stops dead for a moment,
as she feels something cold on her almost bare shoulder, a pare of long finger blades griped her bony
shoulder firmly, but not violently to where it might leave a mark.
"Seven, eight, better stay up late..."
So unlike her, she felt as if she were suffcating out of her fear, she feels hot breath caressing
menacingly on the back of her olive light skin of her neck.
"Nine, ten, never sleep again..."
"Hello, Princess..." the mans cold, dark raspy voice spoke into her hear as if a haunting
melody through out her body. Her eyes grew wide, her mouths opens up as if to scream,
but no sound comes out. Despite her mind telling her to keep still, she turns around to face the man that
was doing this to her. He was badly burnt. He whore a simple, yet dirty christmas sweater, faded brown pants
and a ferdona hat. The most disturbing piece of clothing that was on him, was the bladed glove.
"Who...are you?" she lets out a breathless whisper, unlike Marilyn Monroe, she was scared shitless.
"Your worst nightmare."
Caitlin jolts up in her desk, breathing heavily. She takes a look around the English room, mindlessly smoothing
down her hair. She turns to her teacher, and squeakly asks. "Can I go now?" Her breaths are labored, terrorfied.
Ms.Emerson just looks at the child, and nods her head.
*****
Sarah Morrigahn leans against her locker, her maroon painted eyes closed. She stayed after to practice
for band, she played the Violin. Pietro, the beautiful instruments name, was one of her only friends. She absent
mindedly hums the notes in her sweet soprano voice over and over, rehearsing them in her mind. She wears a
baby blue sleeveless shirt with one of those slits in the neck area, slogan: It's okay, I'm with the band' in white
jagged writing. Patchwork mini-skirt and knee-high leather boots.
She loved her violin, it was the only thing on this earth that ever understood her. The melody of strings, notes...
Beahtoven was her absolute favorite thing to play! His music, to her, was sensual. And when she played, she didn't
care about her problemes, she was in heaven.
Her thoughts were interupted by a teenage girls mumbling.
"That bitch...giving me a fucking F! I'll show her the unrespectful one!" No other than a pissed off, freaked out, and tired
Caitlin Burroughs says on the lock bank next to Sarah's. Sarah opens her eyes, cocking her eyebrow up into the air,
listening to the girl, who was a freshman, while she was a Sophmore at the God forsaken school.
Caitlin complains and vents on and on, fumbling with her combination lock. "Ten...fifteen...twenty?---NO! SHIT!" the fourteen year old growns.
All the sudden, a hand bangs against the faded green painted, and rusted, locker once, and as if on que, the locker opens.
Caitlin looked in awe at the uper classman standing before her, smirking. "Looked like you needed help."
She gives a sheepish smile, and shrugs as if nothing happened. "Hey..I'm Caitlin. You?" She asks, figuring to be nice to the girl,
after all, she did have good clothes.
"Sarah, want to see my violin?"