Hello! This is an original story! All criticism and nice comments are encouraged! Let me know if there are characters you like and what type of arch's you want them to go through. I would love to be shown other ways to present the characters! Now enjoy!
I never knew that at only sixteen years old I would lose everything that I ever cared about. But here I was, standing in front of a casket in an itchy and extremely uncomfortable black dress. I moved my long blonde hair behind my ear, as I tried to choke back the tears that were pooling in the bottom of my chocolate brown eyes. My face contorted in pain, as I tried to fight them off so badly. I didn't want to cry in front of these people. I couldn't cry in front of these people. But I was suddenly pulled out of my daze when I felt a hand grab my own and it squeezed mine tightly. I looked up to see who it was and I couldn't hold my tears back anymore. I then collapsed and let his strong arms hold me as I sobbed. Knowing that my life would never be the same again.
I turned the keys into the truck, which I knew started when I heard a low humming sound. I backed out of my driveway and drove to my best friend Lewis's house.
Lewis was already in the driveway waiting for me. He had his electric guitar slung over his shoulder, and carried two drumsticks in his other hand. Lewis walked towards the truck and opened the back door of the truck and carefully placed his electric guitar on the seat.
"Hurry up!" I exclaimed. Lewis just gave me a hard stare before speaking.
"Scarlett has to be handled with extreme care," he stated as though it was a fact everyone should know. I just rolled my eyes and laughed when he called the guitar Scarlett. I thought it was funny that Lewis named all his instruments.
"Get in," I scoffed. He closed the door and threw open the passenger's side door. He then jumped into the front seat. "Why do you have those?" I questioned, looking down at the drumsticks in Lewis's hand. I then put my foot on the gas and started driving again.
"Kris left them at my house," he stated, pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose.
"Why?"
"Because she pretty much broke down my door to show me her 'amazing new sticks'!" he explained, doing an impression of Kris's voice. "And then she just left them at my house," Lewis laughed, and I laughed too. We talked for a bit until we pulled up to Kris's house. I pulled up onto Kris's driveway. I turned off the truck and pulled out my phone. I tapped on the contact 'Psycho Drummer' and texted "here". And within seconds the garage opened revealing a screaming Kris.
"My drum sticks!" she exclaimed, running to Lewis.
"Here. You idiot. I don't think there is anyone as stupid as you," Lewis replied.
"Fuck you!" Kris laughed, hitting Lewis on the shoulder. She scoffed and then snatched the drumsticks out of his hand. Kris then started walking back into her garage, and I followed right behind her.
"Hey! Wait for me!" Lewis screamed, scrambling in the back seat to get his electric guitar.
"Aren't these super sweet, Gabriella?" Kris asked me.
"Yeah! I love them!" I responded. I saw that they were made out of a very high quality dark wood, and had two lines near the bottom where Kris could hook her figures on. Kris smiled brightly and spun one of the sticks between her fingers.
"So anyways, what's going on?" Kris questioned, using her other hand to tuck her curly black hair behind her ear.
"Well-" I started.
"You guys are mean!" Lewis interrupted. Kris and I just rolled our eyes.
"Okay, are you guys finally ready to jam?" Kris questioned, sitting down at her drum set.
I adjusted my microphone and whispered "testing, testing. Yup we're good," I replied. I then looked over to Lewis and watched him tune his electric guitar.
"Okay, Scarlett's okay," Lewis smiled.
"Oh god," Kris groaned. She tapped her sticks together. "One! Two! One! Two! Three! Four!"
The three of us played in Kris's garage for hours until Kris's older brother, Jackson, came into the garage.
"Christina! Christina!" he yelled.
"What do you need. idiot?!" Kris snapped back. "And also Jackson, how many times do I have to tell you to not call me Christina?!" she added angrily.
"It's time for dinner. Your friends have to leave," Jackson stated, leaning against the door frame.
"Ugh, fine," she spat. "Sorry guys. See you soon," Kris said.
"That's okay. Come on, Lewis," I replied. Lewis unplugged his electric guitar from the amp, and slung it over his shoulder. Lewis and I waved goodbye to Kris, and jumped into my truck. I started the truck and pulled out of the driveway, and started driving Lewis home.
"Oh my god! It's 6:30!" Lewis exclaimed.
"Why does it matter? Is it past your bedtime?" I teased. Lewis gave me a hard stare before he spoke again.
"No, Gabriella. It means I missed dinner, and you know how my Mom is when I miss family things," Lewis laughed nervously.
"Yikes," I replied. "Good luck," I laughed, pulling up at Lewis's house. Lewis got out of the truck and slowly took Scarlett out of the back seat.
"See you soon, Gabriella!" Lewis called walking to his front door.
"Yup! Bye, Lewis!" I called back. I then drove back to my house. I opened the door and was immediately met by the smell of something burning. "Dad?" I questioned.
"Oh, Gabriella! Uhh don't come into the kitchen, nothing is happening in here!" I heard my dad call out from the kitchen. I ran into the kitchen to see that there was smoke coming out of a pot.
"Oh my god, Dad!" I exclaimed. I ran to grab a cloth and ran it under the sink. I then ran back to the pot and put the wet cloth on top. We waited a bit until the smoke stopped seeping out of the pot before any of us spoke.
"I'm so sorry, Gabby. I was trying to make the linguine you like. But-" he started.
"Seriously, Dad. It's okay," I interrupted.
"I was thinking we could eat dinner and then play a game?" he continued.
"Sure. But I think we should order takeout," I laughed.
"Right," he replied, smiling.
The takeout arrived 10 minutes after we ordered it, and we sat down and played a game of Poker together. Of course I lost every time like usual, but I really had no idea why I even lost every time.
"You got to work on your poker face, kiddo," he laughed. I just groaned and rolled my eyes. I was never good at keeping a straight face. But, I had Lewis and Kris as best friends, how could I?
"So are you excited for school tomorrow?" he asked.
"Not really. I have a test tomorrow. It's my big Chemistry final," I responded.
"Oh no. I was never good at Chemistry," he laughed. "I think you'll do well," Dad added.
"Yeah, hopefully it's worth three quarters of my Chemistry mark," I told my father.
"You'll be fine," he reassured.
"Well, I think I'm going to go visit Mom," I blurted out. My dad's expression immediately changed and he frowned at me.
"Why?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowing.
"I don't know," I replied. "I just want to. I usually do," I added.
"Do what you want," my dad replied, voice coating with anger. I frowned. I knew my dad was just covering up the hurt that he felt.
"Bye, Dad," I said, getting up from the dinner table and walking to the front door. I opened the door and was immediately greeted by a cold breeze. I walked down the street and snuggled more into my jacket as I walked, as it was now about 7 o'clock and was starting to get dark. I walked the 4 blocks and then stopped when I reached the cemetery. I made my way to my Mom's grave and sat down beside it.
"Hey, Mom," I said. "Today was a good day, I guess. The band and I played for a long time today, and then Dad and I played Poker," I explained. "Dad won of course, like he always does," I added, starting to choke up. "I know what you would say. 'We will make sure to beat him next time.' But I don't think I will ever beat him," I laughed, tears pooling in the bottom of my chocolate brown eyes. "Not without you," I added, tears starting to trail down my cheeks. "I shouldn't even come here anymore. What am I doing?" I let out a sad laugh, wiping away my tears.
I then stood up and started walking out of the cemetery until I spotted someone in the corner of my eye. I turned around to see that it was a guy standing near the edge of the cemetery.
For some reason I was drawn towards this guy. For some reason I couldn't walk away from him. Something about him was drawing me towards him, like some kind of magnet. I started walking towards the man, like I was on a tightrope and knew that I couldn't turn around anymore.
When I got closer to him I saw that he was standing in front of two headstones. The flowers in front of the headstones looked like they had just been changed. I took a deep breath and walked up to the man.
"Hello," I blurted out. The boy was obviously in a daze so when I spoke he jumped. The boy whirled around and put his hands up as if he was ready for a fight. "Woah. Even if I wanted to fight you I don't think I would even stand a chance," I said with a small laugh. The boy laughed nervously.
"Sorry," he replied, finally looking me in the face.
I saw that he had light brown hair that was parted on the side. One side fell over one of his eyes in curls. He had bright green eyes that mesmerized me. He was wearing a gray t-shirt and black jeans. I wondered how he wasn't freezing. I also noticed that this boy must've been no older than 17. So he might be my age?
"So, what are you doing here?" he asked finally, slicing the tension that I knew both of us felt.
"Visiting my Mom," I smiled, looking back at my Mom's headstone. For some reason I felt like I could trust this boy with that. It just felt right, like I had known this boy all my life.
"Oh god. I'm sorry," he replied, furrowing his brows together in sympathy.
"It's alright," I responded. "What about you?" I questioned, but I was pretty sure I knew the answer.
"My parents," he replied, looking at the two headstones that were in front of the two of us. "I uh. Nobody really knows that," he added quickly. "I don't know why I told you that," he stated, saying what I was too scared to say. He then looked at the ground again. I shifted uncomfortably, and wrapped my jacket around my body more tightly. I watched as the boy's eyes shifted to the headstones again.
"So, what's your name?" I questioned, trying to make the situation less uncomfortable.
"Evan Richardson," he replied, looking back at me. I could swear that name was familiar. I had heard that name before? Where had I heard that name from? "What's yours?" he added, bringing me out of my thoughts
"Gabriella Stone," I replied, putting the thought to the back of my mind.
"Nice to meet you Gabriella," he answered. I heard a ringing come from his pocket. "Oh well, I have to go," he said, "it was really nice to meet you, Gabriella!" Evan called out, starting to walk away.
"It was nice to meet you too!" I yelled back, but by the time I had yelled Evan had already disappeared, over the fence and into the woods.
"Where is he going?" I thought. I brushed the thought aside and decided now was a good time to go back to my house.
I walked the 4 blocks back to my house and opened the front door. I walked in and noticed that my dad wasn't in the living room. But then I remembered that he had a night shift tonight. I made my way upstairs and crashed onto my bed. I then fell asleep immediately.
A 14 year old version of me awoke to a woman's terrorized screaming. I jumped out of my bed and ran to my window. I didn't see anything that was out of the ordinary, but before I was about to go back to bed I heard the bloodcurdling scream again. I ran across the hall and shook my father awake.
"Dad! Dad! There's someone screaming!" I practically yelled. My dad just groaned and told me that it was fine until he heard the scream again but this time it was a male. My dad and I called the police and directed them to the house across the street because that's where we thought that the screaming was coming from.
After we called the police the two of us settled into two chairs in the living room not saying anything to each other until we heard the sound of shattering glass and a giant bang.
The two of us ran to the window again and saw that every single window was shattered in the house across the street. But the worst part is that the house was practically ripped in half. Most of the siding was gone and there was a giant hole in the front of the house. The foundation was cracked and the house overall was completely destroyed.
"What the fuck," my dad said, completely awestruck. My dad never swears, that was the first time I had ever heard him swear. I looked at the house across the street in fear.
"What the hell could possibly do that?" I gasped, saying my thoughts out loud.
"I have no idea," my father muttered.
In a couple of minutes the police arrived at the completely destroyed house. My father and I watched as they went into the house and came out with a boy that looked about the same age as me.
My father and I never were people to socialize so we barely knew any of our neighbors.
After they called an ambulance for the boy, they wanted to talk to my dad and I about what happened. We got the whole story because my dad's best friend was the sheriff of our town.
"So, what even happened, Jim?" my dad questioned.
"We don't even know," he replied. "We don't know of any weapon that could split an entire house apart, and cause that kind of damage to even the surroundings around it," he explained. "Jeremy, all the plants in 20 feet of the house are dead," he said to my dad, lowering his voice. "It's too weird," he added, at a normal volume.
"What was the screaming we heard?" I blurted out.
"Oh, right. The Richardson's. They're all dead. Looks like they were all murdered. But somehow the murder is dead too. No stab wounds. Just dead, like he suffocated or something," he explained. "The entire Richardson family is dead, except their eldest boy. Evan Richardson,"
I woke up with a start. That guy I met at the cemetery was named Evan Richardson. He was the only one who survived.