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Um... Wat should i call this? Leave a comment with any ideas for the name plz! :)

Novel By: vampireHunter329

Wow. It's sooo funny how just listening to a song can spark a new idea. I want to see how this book turns out... Thank u Daughtry! hahaha..... I actually dont know wat this book is about so i'll add a summary later... :) View table of contents...



Submitted:Feb 28, 2010    Reads: 81    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   

Chapter 1

She doesn't come down when her momma calls for breakfast. Her momma can't get down the hall fast enough to see. She sees that glass is spread across the floor, from the broken window. The6 year old girl isbarely breathing, curled in a frightened fetal position near the window. Her long black hair is splayed around her, her bright green eyes are tightly shut. She clutches her necklace in fear, praying. She cannot deny what they know now. And she knows that they are coming.No matter what,they are going to find her. Her momma collapses in a dead faint. The girl reaches for the windowsill, struggling to sit up, struggling to stand. She stands but her shaking legs cannot hold her weight and she falls again. Shaking uncontrollably, she pulls herself up again to the window. Clutching for handholds in her bed frame and her desk, she makes her way over to her fallen mother. Tugging on her mother's sleeve, she tearfully trys to wake her mother. Her mother stirs and with the girl's assistance, her mother struggles to her feet and out the door. Leaning on each other, shaking and scared they made a desperate bid for escape. Not even stopping to packbecause their car already had a few essentials if needed for a quick getaway, theyget to the car as fast as they can.But they're too late as two men materialize in front of the car. They are strong and look like they will stop at nothing to get what they want. Thewoman and her daughterscream as they are taken away from the house. From each other.

"Momma! Momma!" The girl screams, reaching for the familiar touch of her mother's hand.

"Rachael! Rachael!" Her mother reaches for her daughter as well. Looking her young daughter in the eyes, she nods reassuringly. The girl shuts her eyes and concentrates. Then everything disappears in a flash of light.


A 16 year old girl sits up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath. She is crying. She grabs for her necklace, on her side table, and puts it on. Calmer now, she reflects on the dream she had just had. She does not know the girl, although her face is familiar. She does not know the woman, the girl's mother, either; although she has the same familiar feeling about the woman as well. She does know the men. They had come for her a long time ago. They haven't since. Perhaps they are afraid. Perhaps they are waiting.

The girl looks around her small room, taking in the sweet familiarity of it. She feels safer when she knows where she is. She checks her small, pink, princessclock that was next to her necklace. It is too dark to read so she turns on her lamp. It is 4:00 in the morning.

The clock is the only pink and princessy item in her room. Everything else is made of mismatching strange colors and of gothic design. Like her zebra rug and her leopard chair. And her red and black polka dotted bean bag chairs in front of her small flat screen television. Most of her white walls were graffitied by herself with strange symbols and names in red and black paint and marker. Satisfied that everything is how she left it, she turns over and tries to sleep again.


She knows better than to tell anyone about her dream at school. Who would she tell anyway? Everyone thinks she's too weird to associate with. She took her usual seat at the back of the class. Pulling up the hood of her sweater, she put in the earphones of her mp3 player and turned it as loud as she could without anyone around her hearing it. She bent her head down and pretended to take notes. She knew all of the lessonalready so she doodled strange symbols on her paper. They all looked a bit like her necklace. Her good luck charm. She felt someone looking at her. Looking up, the teacher, Mr.was leaning over her. With a swift movement of her hand she pulled out her headphones and turned off her mp3 in one move.

Calmly, she says to her teacher, Mr. Drear, "Yes sir? Have I done something wrong?"

He looks at her sternly, "I asked you a question and you did not answer. Give me the mp3 player please, ."

She feins a lookof hurt innocence that looks soreal that Mr. Drear's gaze softens a little. "But, Mr. Drear," She says with hurt in her tone, "You know that I would never disrespect you in such a way! I just have a terrible headache and ringing in my ears. " He eyes her warily then heaves a sigh of defeat. He never can blame her for anything she does wrong.

"And you're sure that you're not lying? Because if you are, we can take this up with the principal." He says, just to be sure.Her eyes go black and time seems to freeze for a moment.

"I have not done anything wrong Mr. Drear. I think you'd better turn back to your desk and continue the lesson. Do not pay me much mind for the rest of the class period." She says, her voice barely above a whisper.Mr. Drear shook his head a little, like ahorse trying to rid himself of a fly.He looked confused and wondered what he was doingin the back of the classroom. He turns promptly on his heel and continues thelesson at the front of the class.

That's better... She thought, suddenly feeling guilty for her display of odd power. She puts her headphones back into place and continues her drawings. Little does she know, she is being watched by adark hairedboy sitting to the right of the girl two seats in front of her. He, unlike the rest of the class, was the only one who saw what the girl did to Mr. Drear. And he wondered why no one else noticed. How shewas able to dothat. And why hewas able todo it to.


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