Since I could remember, my mother and grandmother always spoke of our ancestors. One of my earliest memories is getting put to bed and hearing their wild bedtime stories, each one getting more detailed than the last. I believed them for a long time until I got older. I don't remember much now; they quit telling me the stories after I went off to junior High.
The only thing I can remember is that somehow my last name had a special meaning. My father told such amazing stories and described all the adventures he would go on. I forgot all about them after he left us. We still live with my Grandmother Lillian, she is my father's mother, even though my dad disappeared on us when I was seven; to her we are still the closest family she has.
It was my senior year of high school when I finally started getting more involved with clubs and groups. I know, way to jump in the bandwagon at the last minute. Truth is, I am not really the type of person to do extracurricular things after school. I go to school and then go home. I liked to stay busy so I worked a lot. I was a bit of a loner.
With college being so close I wanted to beef up my resume with as many clubs and volunteer activities as I could. Pretty much the sole reason I am just now doing things that involve having extra time at my school. I can't really say I'm popular, but I'm also not a loner at school either. I fall in the middle, I don't do sports which means I am NOT popular, but I'm also not in band or any other "geeky club" the popular kids hate so much. I'm friends with really everyone, I don't have a specific group I hang with a lot.
Now don't get me wrong I absolutely hate high school. I am so looking forward to college where all these people will be away from me. I like to be on my own and do whatever I want. I like the idea of being able to leave when I want. Going to classes and not having to be there from 8 AM to 4 PM every single day. I have the option to make my own schedule. So goodbye early mornings and hello afternoon classes.
Sunday morning arrives, I wake up in a cold sweat and have this overly intense feeling of darkness. It is still dark outside so I checked the time...
Why did I wake up so early and why am I so scared to go to sleep now? Closing my eyes I try and remember the dream I just had that may have caused this panic.
I hear a loud squawking... and just like that I nearly jump out of my skin.
Two black crows are waiting outside my window. Without even thinking I opened my window and shooed them away. Maybe now I can go back to sleep. Laying my head down, I close my eyes once more. I slowly drift off to sleep.
Rustling of the blankets, swift movements. I’m tossing and turning in my sleep. Something is wrong.
Blackness, I am sitting in complete blackness. I can’t move, I feel around and as I try and move away to find some light I am restrained. Rope, I think, it's tight and hurts with every movement I make. I'm hearing footsteps now, starting to panic I begin to scream for help. This low gravel voice begins to laugh.
My body flies forward and I jilt awake, covered in sweat and shaking from fear.