Collapse (A young adult novel)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 3 (v.1)

Submitted: June 24, 2011

Reads: 69

Comments: 2

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 24, 2011



A/N:Carriad writes in past. Charlotte writes in present. I don't know why, it just suits them better.

Carriad's P.O.V

Chapter 3

By the time I arrived at my average house on my average street, it was far past sunset.

School had finished ten minutes late, and my train only comes every three hours. And my phone had chosen this morning to screw up. Jonny and Crystal had offered me their phones, but I wanted Mom to get all worked up about me for once. I wanted her to care.

Sighing, I opened the lock to allow me in.

"Mom?Dad?Davy?" I called out, my voice echoing creepily against the walls. No answer.

"Mom?" I cried again, making my way to the living room. No one was there.

"Dad?"I cried again, more desperately, making my way to the kitchen.No one was there.

"Davy!"I shouted for my brother, pounding up the stairs and flinging his bedroom door open. No one was there.

My heart was beating at a rate ten times that which is normal. All I could hear, alone in the house, was my breathing.

Cautiously, I made my way downstairs, back to the kitchen, keeping my back to a wall at all times.

Then it happened.

Terrifying, surprising, terrifying.

A phone rang.

With only some hesitaion, I picked it up, ready to ask my Mom what on Earth had happened, but, instead, I picked up the phone to hear my balling Grandmother.

"Nan?"I whispered, only just loud enough for her to hear me.

"They're gone,"she cried back.

"What?"I asked, louder, daring her to tell me the lie again.

"They're gone,Carriad!"

"What?"I asked again, tears now welling up in my eyes.

"They're gone. They're gone. Davy... Your mom and Dad. Gone!"

Have you ever lost someone close to you?Well, if you have, you understand. If you haven't, you don't, and never will.

The best I can describe it as is someone grabbing your heart, squeezing the life force from it, and then puncturing it again. It's painful and incurable.

I dropped the phone and let the tears flow freely, my back still against the wall, but now sliding down to the floor.

Happily ever after?Never.

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