Stories Poems Artwork Quizzes

Tests & Quizzes

Social

Stories

Art

Poems

Comedy

Email:
Password:
New User Or

Created By

twilight8218

Rate this Story

+34

Embed

<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/twilight8218/36889">Violet Hill (2)</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">34</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/twilight8218/36889"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/36889.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

+ 14	Becca (18)
+ 13	Hearing is Believing (2)
+ 11	Diary of Secrets (2)
+ 10	Diary of Secrets
+ 12	Becca (17)
+ 13	Hearing is Believing (1)
+ 20	Hearing is Believing
+ 14	Becca (16)
+ 18	Becca (15)
+ 21	Becca (14)
+ 14	Ravenwood Manor (3)
+ 21	Becca (13)
+ 21	Becca (12)
+ 22	Becca (11)
+ 15	Ravenwood Manor (2)
+ 30	Becca (10)
+ 22	Scream.
+ 24	Ravenwood Manor (1)
+ 36	Becca (9)
+ 26	Ravenwood Manor (Intro)

-Chapter 2-

 

 

The obnoxious buzz of my alarm went up and I wanted terribly to throw it against the wall, but instead I simply just turned it off and got up and out of bed. I could already hear my parents’ usual routines downstairs as I pulled out any random sweatshirt and jeans from my closet.

I carried the clothes with me into the bathroom but set them down so that I could take a shower. I didn’t have to worry about sleeping siblings for I had none (siblings that is). The water was cold and I didn’t even bother to warm it up; I liked my showers cold.

The crashing water washed away my bed-head and many other things (such as the sound of my parents conversing). I hated how they acted like they had the perfect life, the perfect son, the perfect everything! Just because I am smart they automatically think I belong in Dartmouth or Yale or even Harvard! It’s not that I don’t want to go to into Ivy League but I at least want a choice.

After about five minutes I was done with the shower and onto the cold tile so that I could get dressed. My dark hair was wet so there was no reason to worry about it at the moment. With a sigh I looked up to my reflection only to find that face that has been there for so long; I could even see the boyish past through my blue eyes.

I glanced over to the iced window on the wall and saw that it was once snowing. Remembering the other day, I chuckled because my hair too had iced over from the sudden chill of the air and the fact that my hair was wet.

Going down the steps wasn’t difficult, but trying to go down them unseen was a very different story. My parents immediately heard my footsteps—even if they were as quiet as I could get them—and greeted me.

“Morning darling,” my mother purred from the kitchen and I sighed as I went in there.

“Morning,” I muttered grudgingly and she ignored my unwelcome behavior.

“Did you have a nice night?”

 

Don’t pretend to care—I thought to myself.

 

“I guess.”

“That’s good.”

This was how it should be: the conversations awkward, short and simple, in fact the whole atmosphere should be so uncomfortable but it was this feeling that I was used to. This definitely was how it should be in my sameness.

My father just walked into the kitchen for more coffee and I glared silently at the fridge as he placed a hand on my shoulder and wished me a good morning. Both of them were very skilled actors, but I could see through their little charade.

I said nothing in return to my father and that sent the room into a silent streak, not even my breathing could be heard. And neither of them did anything to try and break it and I didn’t want to be the one who had to do that this time. Not again.

I heard my father’s footsteps leave which got rid of some of the anxiousness that I was feeling. I don’t have a very good relationship with him, and on a side note, my mother either. I know that they care about me they just don’t care for me enough, I guess…

This was the argument I have had with Layla numerous times. She said she would give anything to be in my shoes… just so she could at least have a nonviolent family but I told her that I would rather feel the pain of a blow rather than neglect. Neither of us ever seemed to come to a conclusion to what family was better but I truthfully think that they are both bad in their ways.

I closed the refrigerator door and just grabbed a granola bar on the table. I wouldn’t be hungry for lunch because that was not that far away and it was off campus so that was a plus. At lunch I usually sat with my friends but sometimes I would sit with Layla, but only when she was sitting with a nice group of people.

My coat and backpack were in the other room and I didn’t even bother to grab my hat and gloves that were by them. I left my home without another word and in return I wasn’t given a word also. I knew that the bus wouldn’t be here on this dark December day for a while but I didn’t care.

I do have a car but driving in the wintertime made me a bit nervous because not only of blurry winds but icy roads. So at this time of the year I usually bus to school even if I did have to wake up earlier for it.

I peered over at Layla’s house and wondered if Isabelle had picked her up yet but I decided that she probably hadn’t because it was still too early.

Not caring if my jeans would get wet, I plopped down in a snow bank. I liked the feeling of the snow. It was cold enough to make you shiver but it was just so comfortable you could sleep in it. No wonder many people die in the cold.

I heard footsteps to my right but instead of looking I just closed my eyes and hoped that they would not notice me, which probably was absolutely impossible.

“Hey, Jason,” a familiar voice said and I jumped in surprise.

“Isabelle?” I asked confused; wasn’t she supposed to be giving Layla a ride?

“You look like you are surprised to see me…” She mused with a half-hearted chuckle.

Isabelle has always been pretty. Long lustrous wavy black hair and big hazel eyes; her other features were small because she was also the smallest in my class but they were striking. A nice curved mouth, high-cheekbone structure and long lashes, stood prominent on her face while delicate fingers lightly shoved my shoulder. Yes, Isabelle definitely was quite attractive.

“What was that for?” I asked referring to her jostle.

“Well, you were staring at me and I did ask you an unanswered question.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s alright… all I was asking is if you have seen Layla or is she sleeping late and planning on missing the bus… again?”

“Well, honestly I am not sure… you see.” I stopped because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make Isabelle (aka her other best friend) worry.

Before Isabelle could ask me anything more the bus skidded to a stop beside us and I hopped on. Saved by the bus, how cliché. I quickly made my way to the only open area in the back because I knew that Isabelle would have to sit in the way front and that meant that she could not interrogate me which sent a small ease throughout my body.

The ride to school was usually a short amount of time but today it seemed incredibly short. I knew Isabelle was waiting for me to get off by the side of the bus so I took my time which sent a small amount of moans and groans behind me.

And I was right.

Isabelle was at the side of the bus in a stance that should only belong to a model but seeing me she quickly made her way over. Layla would’ve pinned me down and forced the answer out of me, but Isabelle was different. She was quieter, shyer and more of a healer than a harmer.

“Tell me what you were about to say.” Isabelle said behind me and I slowed my pace so that she could catch up—I don’t really know why I did but I did.

“Well, you see Layla told me she wasn’t going to be on the bus because she was getting a ride from…” I trailed off because I could not finish my sentence.

I could see Layla.

Any other time I would’ve confronted her and possibly yelled but not this time because this time she was intertwined with the beast. Tony Hines was draping his big arms around her and she was enjoying it!

The same guy who she claimed she couldn’t stand and the same guy that screwed half of the girls in the school. So had she been lying the whole time, or was this some change of heart?

And then Layla was looking directly at me. I could sense her mortification but also her shame.

“Well… that’s interesting.” I whispered and Isabelle followed my eyes.

“Saw that coming.” She muttered and I flashed a sharp look in her direction. “Well, I mean she talked about him all the time…”

“So… Layla has liked Tony for quite some time.” My voice sounded strange almost as if it was elsewhere.

“Don’t worry; everyone knows Tony doesn’t stay with a girl for more than a few days.”

“That’s what I am afraid of.” I replied referring to the fact that I didn’t want Layla to get hurt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Author’s Note:  For some reason I am unable to update my profile—there is some error code thing—so I cannot put the song back up there which means you will have to look it up yourself and that shouldn’t be that hard.)

(I am not sure how long I want to make this story… definitely longer than my last one but when the time comes I will decide on the length. Oh and the ch.2 that I typed at the beginning was for my benefit because I am doing this on Word. I know it seem like it might go by fast but trust me it is not going to.)

(Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter and I am sorry for the wait I was extremely busy.)

© 2008

Top Users | Contact Us | Privacy | Terms | Advertise | Disclaimer