Chapter One - Annie

Annie

 

“Balance, Annie, balance.” That was what my father would always tell me. We would go to the park and I would walk on the tops of benches while he held my hand. When I almost fell he would set me upright again and tell me to balance. Then he would say, “Balance is the answer to a lot of things in life. Sometimes people need to balance out priorities or responsibility but you"well, you need to balance on this bench,” and he would smile and help me down.

“Annie, pay attention will you?” my boss, Charlie snapped at me. “Customers are waiting.” I snapped out of my reverie and back to reality.

“Right,” I replied, putting on my ‘The Veggie House’ apron and a fake smile.

I walked up to my assigned table with my pen and pad in hand and said, “Hi, welcome to The Veggie House. I’m Annie and I’ll be your server for tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?”

That was what I said to all my customers. I was kind and courteous yet by the end of my shift, I had made a total of ten dollars in tips. I sat at the front of the diner on one of the stools and removed my apron.

“What does a girl have to do to get some tips around here?” I mumbled to myself while getting ready to go home.

“Flirt.” I turned quickly around, startled. And there he was.

At first look, he seemed like any normal guy but when I really looked at him, he was perfection. He had dark angular features, full lips, and amazing hazel eyes. He reminded me of a cookie-cutter supermodel. Like he belonged on a Hollister poster"and I already hated him.

“Excuse me?” I asked, half confused, half annoyed.

“You know, to get more tips. You can flirt,” he replied. I wanted to roll my eyes but something held me back.

Turning my back to him, I grabbed my keys and messenger bag. Why is he even talking to me? When I turned back around, he was glancing up at the clock and the light reflected in his eyes in the weirdest way. The only way to describe what I thought I saw was that his eyes has turned into cat eyes"big, yellow, and with long black pupils.

When he turned back, his face was kind and a sudden calm seemed to wash over me. “I’m John,” he said in his sweet-as-honey voice.

“I’m Annie,” I said for no logical reason. I’d meant specifically not to give him my name. He was a stranger and didn’t need to know my name but I felt compelled to tell him anyway and it scared me.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

“I should really…” I started but couldn’t seem to finish.

“Come on. I don’t bite,” he said in a low voice.

I grabbed my things and followed him out of the restaurant onto the deserted sidewalk. “Where do you live?” he asked. When I tried to wrap logic around the whole situation, I found my thoughts drifting off to things like John’s perfectness.

“I really shouldn’t…” my sentence seemed to drift off in the wind and before I knew it, I was leading him uptown to my apartment. Aunt Farrah won’t be too happy.

When we got there, my head was buzzing and I was slightly dizzy but we walked into the five story building and climbed the old winding staircase which creaked under our weight. Slowly and almost dreamily I pulled out my key and opened the door. John followed me inside and closed and locked the door. That scared me but soon, my head was swimming and I was falling only to be caught by him.

“Weak human,” he muttered, confusing me. But every time I tried to question him or I wondered why I was acting that way, my thoughts just disappeared. He lifted me upright and said, “Can you balance?” Those three words made me tear up, thinking of my father, but I blinked back my tears and nodded.

“Annie,” Farrah called, “is that you?” When I opened my mouth to respond to my aunt, a hand was clamped over it and I was pushed behind our black leather couch.

“Don’t say anything,” John whispered. I listened to him out of fear and watched as he walked out into the hallway.

“Where is she?” the sentence was a growl spoken by Farrah.

John just laughed and said, “So you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you,” her voice was on the verge of hysteria and I heard what sounded like a knife being unsheathed.

“There’s no need for weapons,” John said, “I come in peace.”

“Where is she?” Farrah asked again.

When he didn’t answer, she repeated, “Where’s Annie?”

I thought about what I should do"if I should stand up and let my aunt know that I was there and safe or stay quiet like John had told me. I don’t even know him. It was like he was controlling me.

“I’m right here,” I said, standing up. John was in front of me before I could say anything else. How did he get across the room so quickly? His gaze soothed me, and stopped me from running to my aunt’s side. The dreaminess flooded back to me and I felt like I should do whatever John asked me to.

“What did you do to her?” Farrah asked furiously.

It’s okay Farrah, his thoughts whispered in my mind. “It’s okay Farrah,” I repeated out loud.

“Get away from her,” Farrah yelled at John. Before I could even blink John had gone up to Farrah and grabbed the dagger she was holding with inhuman speed. He lifted it and was about to bring it down when I yelled, “Stop.”

He swiveled around and stealthily walked up to me, dagger in hand. “Leave her alone,” Farrah begged, tears dripping down her face. I threw my hands up in front of my face, trying to protect myself. John brought the knife down hard, into my side. And instead of Farrah, I was the one who was stabbed.

 

 

“Mommy, daddy!” I called as I skipped into my house, clutching my backpack. I expected to be greeted by my parents but instead my aunt, Farrah, appeared before me, followed by police men. “Why are the police here?” I asked, my brows furrowing.

Farrah picked me up and smoothed my blonde bangs back. “They are here to give us some bad news,” she replied. She walked me into the living room and set me down on our soft brown couch.

It was only then that I saw that her face was streaked with tears. “Your parents…well they’re gone,” Farrah said shakily.

“They left without me?” I asked.

“No, honey,” Farrah pulled me into a hug, “Your parents"they went to heaven.”

I pulled away from her and backed to the other side of the couch, tears burning my eyes. “You can’t lie about things like that.”

“Annie, they were murdered,” Farrah said, a tear slipping down her face. I tried to hold my tears but couldn’t any longer. Hysteria bubbled up inside me and I got up and ran as fast as I could out of the house, pigtails flying behind me.

I ran all the way to the park and sat against my favorite oak tree, and let all my tears out, shaking and choking on my sobs. People stared but I ignored them and kept crying, not knowing what else to do.

 

 

I woke up in a bright room, light shining on my face. I was lying on a bed with lots of pillows, wrapped in blankets. My side was throbbing with pain and I reached under a hospital like gown to feel gauze wrapped around my bare skin.

When I heard voices and a door shutting, I quickly closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. “I told you to bring me the girl unharmed,” I heard a man with a heavy British accent say.

“I had no other choice.” I recognized the next speaker as John.

“You had other choices, Aiden,” said the British man. Aiden?

“She’s perfectly fine, anyway,” John said.

“She is a weak human, not perfectly fine. Don’t be stupid, boy.”

The way they spoke was odd but I guessed that it was a British thing. Is his name John or Aiden? I heard a door shut and opened my eyes, expecting them to be gone, only to find John standing over me.

I jumped, startled and he smiled. “Who are you"what are you?” I asked, my voice showing my panic.

“I’m Aiden. I don’t think you really want to know what I am,” he replied, his smile widening and becoming scarier.

His face elongated and changed and I screamed. His ears moved to the top of his head and sharpened at the tips. His eyes slanted and his nose flattened, his whole face contorting into something inhuman"something feral. Whiskers stuck out of his furry cheeks. He was a bobcat.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, cringing.

“It’s time for you to go back to sleep,” he said and waved a clawed paw over my face and darkness overtook me.

 

•          •          •

 

They say there are five stages of grief"denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and, finally, acceptance. I went through all of those stages that year. I was nine years old when I found out that my parents were murdered. I was in denial for so long, thinking my parents might come back, that they were just on a trip. Farrah never corrected me when I said that they'd be back soon.

And then I moved on to anger"anger at myself for letting them die, anger at them for leaving me alone, and anger at the world. "Why can't they find him? Some killer who murdered my parents is out there somewhere!" I yelled at Farrah one day.

  "They will find him, Annie. They will," she replied. She held me tight, and let me cry into her shoulder. I pretended that it made me feel better but nothing really did.

 I remember the bargaining stage. Some days I would sit in my room on my bed, eyes closed, and pray. "If there is a God up there, I'll give anything"even my life"if you just bring them back. Please, if you're listening God, bring them back," I begged. Everyday I waited for them to come home, for some news that they somehow came back to life. But they never came.

Weeks passed and there was a funeral. I didn't want to see them, not when they were pale and cold with death. Instead, I said goodbye through the casket and left as soon as the ceremony was over. People told me they grieved for me, tried to make me feel better, and I just smiled, blinking away the tears that burned my eyes. After that, I moved onto depression. I didn't really know that I was depressed but I sat in my room alone and cried for hours at a time and then just sat there staring at a blank wall.

 Farrah tried to calm me down, tried to help me the best she could and I wished that it did help but it didn't. One day, Farrah took me to a doctor and told me it was just a checkup. The doctor talked to her alone for a while and she came back with a prescription. They told me I was sick even though I felt perfectly fine. Once the pills were prescribed, I took them everyday. They made me feel better but I didn't know why because I wasn't sick.

Soon came acceptance. I didn't sit in my room and cry anymore. Farrah taught me how to turn grief into happiness. Instead of feeling sad, I would look through old pictures and think about all of the good memories that we'd had together. By then I was ten and I started to move on with my life.

When I was twelve, I found out that the pills that Farrah had given me were anti-depressants. And things just kept moving on and the case of my parent's death was forgotten.

Author's Note

It's not completely edited but I'm looking for constructive criticism on this first part

Reviews

[~Shadow Kissed~]

This is totally great. i love the beginning can't wait to read more

[J.A.Thompson]

Please, please continue this. I don't just stay that to be nice, either. This is better than several of the books that i read by choice. if you can, go back and add a bit more detail, but work on continuing this first. this is going into my favs ASAP.

[{[*!~ixia~!*]}]

Hey!
It could use a bit more detail so my imagination can stop running wild; usually when i write i just write what i'm thinking and fill in the details later. *lol* I love where your story is going, though. I can't wait for more so get to writing...I mean typing!
{[*!~ixia~!*]}