Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Mila didn't think her life could get any weirder. Not only was she seeing glimpses of ghosts everywhere, but a mystic stranger keeps appearing and disappearing without warning nor explanation. But one thing she is sure of; He is trouble, and she is the perfect target for him to wreck. Meaning she should do everything she can to stay away from him. There's only one problem. He won't let her, and neither will she.

Submitted:Mar 8, 2013    Reads: 7    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I gazed out over the pulsating lights and rocking bodies. I let my eyes sweep past the moving people, watching girls move their hips and swing their hair to the loud music, seeing a hundred different boys grab at whatever skin they could reach in the barely lit room. Because that was all they really were. Boys and girls, not one of them worth a second thought. I emptied my cup and went to the door to get a break from the clammy, thick air. As soon as I stepped outside and took a deep breath of the fresh, slightly chilly air, my head cleared. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the hint of pollution the air had gained over the past few decades. Just for kicks I turned on my radar.

The feedback exploded at me, a thousand small lights, glowing brighter the closer the person it represented was to me. Urge started pumping through my body and my muscles tightened, ready to cause all kinds of damage. I took another breath and opened my mouth. I tasted the air, and the thick sweetness of life, just begging to be ended. I opened my senses further and heard thousands of rapid beats from the dancing crowd, their hearts tempting me to come closer and closer. I smelled the different kinds of perfumes the girls were wearing and the sweat that stuck to each and everyone of their bodies. My jaw clenched, eager to bite through skin, tear muscles and bones apart, to end lives. And then I shut it all off. It really was too dangerous to take little breaks from my composed appearance like this. I opened my eyes, and watched as my sight blurred until it was normal, and hopefully my eye color was back to normal as well.

I was just about to head for the parking lot when I heard the door being ripped open. I turned halfway, not really interested in finding the source of the disturbance. A girl was bent halfway over, holding her stomach. I turned away, knowing that she was about to vomit, but when the sounds never came, I turned again. She was breathing rapidly, like she hadn't breathed in a while. She slowly sank down to her knees and ran her fingers through her thick, dark hair, pulling at it with painfully obvious force. I stood there, looking at her from the shadows that surrounded me, wondering what to do. I knew I should go, it was what I would normally do, but it was something about the way she so obviously was in agony, how she determinedly inflicted pain on herself. How would the boys inside the club act in this situation? I quickly shook the thought away. I didn't want to be them, in no way.

But I still wanted to approach her, somehow. And just like that, I did. I crossed the lot and stopped a few feet from her. She was leaning against the wall next to the emergency door, the same door I had escaped through. Her head was tilted back and she was looking sickly pale, though her skin had a tan hint, telling me that on a normal day, she would have a light olive skin tone. Her eyes were closed, and a light layer of sweat covered her forehead. I shifted, knowing she hadn't heard me walk towards her. Should I go? The thought brought with it a bitter taste. I took a few soundless steps closer and crouched down. Her breathing had slowed a bit and her hands were resting on her knees, which were raised up to her chest. I considered my options for half a second before acting.

"Hey." I said softly and then frowned at my tone. Where had that kitty-tone come from? Her eyes opened and her whole body jumped at the sound of my voice and proximity. I stared into her dark brown eyes as she stared at my face. I expected her to react like every other girl reacted when they saw me; blush, look away and smile, play with their hair and flutter with their lashes. But she didn't she just looked at me with what could almost be described as indifference. Gay? The thought crossed my mind, but I instantly shot it down. It wouldn't matter if she was gay or not. She seemed to consider what to say.

"Hey." she said back with a slight smile. I stared at her through narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what her deal was. And without meaning to, I let myself slip. Her scent flowed over me, a rich, sweet smell that almost made me moan for her life. Her heartbeat sounded loudly and I could see all too clearly every little detail of her face. Her full lips, her big, deep, brown eyes. My mouth watered at the thought of ending her life. I clenched my hands and tried to come up with some kind of distraction.

"You okay?" I managed at last and pressed a smile. I yelled at my instincts to back off, but they were as persistent as ever. Instead of focusing on her even, wet heartbeats, I focused on her warm, inviting eyes. The monster inside me automatically imagined them lifeless, cold and forever unmoving. But, unlike every other time I imagined something like that, the thought didn't please me. It didn't make me want to grab her arms, pull her to me and relish in her fear as I killed her. The thought of her dead eyes actually.. repulsed me.


I stared at the boy in front of me, or, was he a boy? Or a man? I never really knew when you went from being a boy to a man. The guy in front of me seemed to be 18-19 years old, so man was probably the right term, but there was a mischievous spark in his eyes, like a troublemaker about to get caught for doing something wrong. At the thought of his eyes, my mind instantly blacked out. Those deliciously blue eyes. It was hard not to stare into them, and so I shifted my eyes down to his lips. Baaad move, I instantly thought and shifted back up to his eyes. He smiled like he knew what I was thinking. Then I remembered he had asked me a question.

"Uhh, yeah, I'm fine." I said and felt for a moment if it was the truth. I was no longer dizzy. I didn't feel the need to puke up my guts anymore, so I guess it was semi-true. He nodded and smiled again.

"Can I ask what was wrong?" he asked and flashed a set of white teeth, looking like a dentist's dream. I knew I shouldn't tell him, but I just couldn't think rationally with him looking at me with those crazy eyes.

"It was nothing, I just thought I saw.. something. But, really, it's no big deal, I was just a little shocked in the moment." I said and the image of what I thought was my little sister flashed into my mind. I shook my head. There was no way that that could have been Lola, because Lola, my sweet little sister was... dead. The word was still not something I could get used to. I took a deep breath and decided to focus on the person in front of me in stead.

I took an all-over look at him. He was wearing dark jeans and a black t-shirt. He had on a black leather jacket and everything about him screamed 'trouble'. His hair was as black as night and made his eyes that much bluer. It also made his skin look whiter than it probably was, but not that sick never-in-the-sun-pale, it was a healthy white, that would look good on anyone, if that even makes sense. I got sort of dizzy. It was as if, the longer I stared at him, the more handsome he got. Because he wasn't pretty. No, he was that hot-and-dangerous-like-hell-handsome. He suddenly extended his arm.

"I'm Nate. Nate Dawson." he said as I took his hand and shook it. Butterflies swarmed like crazy in me.

"Mila Welter" I said and was surprised when I actually gave him my real name. Usually I gave strangers fake names. You can never be too safe in this great messed up world of ours. He held my hand longer than what was usual and stared into my eyes intensely, making my heart beat faster in my chest.

"It's was a pleasure to meet you, Mila." he said with his dark voice that raised goose bump up my spine. And with a small squeeze he let go of my hand, got up and left me sitting behind, staring open-mouthed after him. He had an incredibly sexy walk. Like he owned the place, like he had no fears in the world, and he had all the time he wanted. I pressed my hand to my chest to stop the tingling his skin had left on it. Daaamn, was all my mind had to say at that moment, which, believe me, was rare.


| Email this story Email this Book | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.