"Spike Rawfield, I have been waiting outside in the pouring rain for three hours! You're going out on a limb, and that limb is soon to be broken." Amber threatened.
"Wait, three hours? I haven't been asleep that long, have I?" Spike wondered, astonishment clear in his eyes.
"More than three hours! For Pete's sake, you missed every one of your classes. Wait till the school notifies your father!" Amber shouted, her eyes staring him down.
"Oh, no! He's going to kill me! Please, you've got to help me!" Spike pleaded. Amber shook her head in refusal.
"You snooze, you lose. Sorry, but there's no way I can help you out of this one," she picks up Spike's hand and holds it warmly. Spike cried out in pain and hastily pulled his hand away.
"Ohmigosh, Spike! What happened to your hands?" Amber cried out in shock, lowering her sternness by just a smidge.
"I haven't a clue! I had the weirdest dream-" Spike was interrupted when four of Amber's friends, Micaela Liddleton, Mary and Hannah Loren, and Joey Crusel ran into the room.
"Hey guys, what's up?" Hannah asked, resting her elbow on Amber's shoulder. So, Regeurk, you stayin' at my place, or not?"
"I don't know." Amber answered, slowly moving Hannah's elbow off her shoulder. "Spike just had the cutest little nightmare, and I don't know if I could bear to leave without hearing about it!" Amber mocked him, obviously over his burnt hands.
"A nightmare?" Joey repeated nervously.
"Oh look, the mute talked!" Mary joked meanly. Joey looked at the floor.
"Shut up, Mary!" Amber yelled, stepping on Mary's foot, who began jumping up and down in pain.
"Oo! Tell me about your nightmare Spike!" Micaela pleaded.
"You'll get scared, Micaela." Hannah joked.
"Nu, uh!"
"Uh, huh!"
"Nu, uh!"
"Uh, huh!"
"Nu-"
"Shut it, both of you!" Spike interrupted, stomping his foot down. He didn't like Amber's friends very much. "I was going to tell you about it anyway."
Spike quickly recalled the dream, showing them his burnt hands at the end.
"What a bunch of bologna!" Mary interrupted haughtily. "You probably just made that up to get a pity kiss from your stupid girlfriend-"
"Hey!" Amber yelled, offended.
"And you probably just burnt your hands on that radiator over there for extra effect. All in all, you're a liar and emo."
"Why would I do that? Plus, emos cut themselves, they don't burn themselves moron," Spike shot back.
"Whatever, nightmare brains," Mary stomped away, leaving an awkward silence to fill the air.
Soon after Mary's dramatic exit, everyone started to clear out, except for Spike, Amber, and Joey.
"Um, Spike? I have a question, um, about your nightmare," Joey spoke up, his voice still barely audible.
"Ya sure. Whatever. What is it?" Spike asked in a bored tone.
"Um, in your nightmare, was there- I mean did you see- uh,"
"Spit it out, mute!" Spike rushed him, getting restless in the small janitor's closet. Amber gave Spike a mean look meant to warn him to calm down.
"Did you see a man with a burnt face wearing an old, brown hat- his right hand would have knives instead-" Joey was interrupted when Spike shoved him to the ground, laughing like he'd just done something hysterical.
"Shut it, freak. Like I really care to answer your questions," Spike smirked at Joey and left the room. Before he left, he turned and flashed Amber one of his famous flirtatious smiles.
"Spike! You're such a jerk!" Amber yelled frustrated, then softened up and went to help Joey up. "Oh, I'm sorry about him. He's so obnoxious sometimes. Are you alright?"
Joey nodded his head, but said nothing.
"I have to go home or Simon's gonna have a fit. See you tomorrow?" Joey shook his head "yes", and walked home in the rain.
Amber arrived home shortly after she left. She didn't live far away from school. Amber assumed Simon was already asleep. Her mom had died three months after Amber was born. Some rumors were that she killed herself, others that she was murdered. Some say she never existed, that Amber just poofed out of thin air. Amber knew those weren't the truth, even though she, herself, didn't know the real truth.
Simon Weston had never found the perfect woman, but desperately wanted a kid. After her mom died, Amber was raised in the Church of Saints. When she was five years old, Simon adopted her.
"Simon, I'm home!" Amber called as she walked through the front door, slinging her backpack off her shoulder and onto the floor. "Simon?" Usually, once she got home she could smell the burnt stench Simon calls "dinner", but she didn't smell any thing waiting for her. "Simon? Sorry I was late! Simon?" She slowly ascended the stairs, dreading the moment before she even got to his door. She turned the knob, stopping herself from running back downstairs. Amber let the door creak open, and then stepped inside. A scream escaped her lips before her mind even processed what she saw. Simon was dead; four claw marks marking his pale, lifeless chest.
Thanks for reading! I'm currently working on Chapter 3. Please review!