Apparition Part 1: Reunion..?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A teen, around 16 or 17 learns that his friend, Quentin, has gone missing. About 2 years later, he finds him. But, just not the reunion he was hoping for..

(Part Two coming soon!)

Submitted: February 11, 2014

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Submitted: February 11, 2014

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This was around the time that my aunt's dog would start barking, almost like a rooster cawing to give a friendly wake up call to the farmer. The dog, however, was no campanion or best friend to me. Anyways. I sat up in bed after the dog's barks died out, which I assumed my aunt came out and took the mutt back inside to shut him up. I stared at my black blanket for a few minutes, still waking up, since I had another dream about those two again; a man around his late 30s and a woman around her mid 20s. The man had a strange older look about him, with one blind eye and not a single hair to be found on his scalp.. The woman's eyes were deep green, with dirty blonde hair stretching down past her mid-back. I have been having these obscure dreams for a good year now. The weird part though, is that they started a year later, on the day that Quinten went missing. I honestly don't get my mind sometimes; so full of obscinity and curiosity. I finally climbed out of bed and opened my door, which had a mirror on it with my name and a message from my deceased parents: "To Simon, our miracle. ~Mom and Dad." I was given this when I was younger, about a month before they died in my old house back in southern Lousiana. Stepping out into the warmed hallway, I noticed the strange heat and sighed. "Great. Another hot day. Thank God my air conditioner is functioning well." I slowly descended down the stairs and made my way into the kitchen, where my Aunt Fiona was standing in front of her violet colored vase, which was placed on a table under the window next to the door. The dog, which my aunt named King, laid at my aunt's feet.

 

I finally spoke, after gently rubbing my eyes. "Hey Fiona. Can I talk to you about something?" "What is it, Simon?" She replied with her soft, but obviously aged voice. "I had another dream about that.. couple.. I don't get why I'm having these dreams, especially about people that I never met or at least, don't remember meeting." She tapped a wrinkly, skinny finger on her chin as she muttered a soft, 'Hmmm' as she entered deep thought. "I don't know why you have these dreams, kiddo. It's a mystery to me. But while you think on it, could you go outside and collect some firewood from the shed?" I was screaming in my head, "NO. NOT THE SHED," but out of pure goodness in my heart, I quietly nodded and put my shoes on before opening the front door and stepping out into the warm, humid air. Around the summer it gets insanely warm here. Bad thing about living in Lousiana. I stepped onto the grass and continued down the yard, which was of good size, and onto the trail that leads into the forests surrounding Aunt Fiona's home. I stood there and examined the tree tops that seemed to paint the morning sky like a paintbrush on a light blue canvas. I continued down the dusty trail as the breeze travels through the trees, making a relaxing rustle of leaves emit into the air. After a good eight minutes go by, I reach the wooden shed and slowly step up to it, stepping on the wood steps built into the dirt, as the shed was built onto a sort of hill. I sigh and look at the door with anxiety. I never liked going into this shed alone. Something about it is.. Dark.

 

I stepped inside, the wood floor creaking under my feet. I searched the shed and found a few logs of wood. I approached them but heard a loud crack of a stick coming from outside the doorway. I spun around and stood, staring at the sunlit doorway. I guess I was expecting someone, maybe my friend Desirae trying to scare me again, that dork. I turned back and began to pick up a few logs. I then heard my name being said. I stood up and looked around the shed, looking for who said my name. I noticed a figure standing at the end of the wood steps outside the shed. I looked harder and immediately a smile and look of surprise took over my facial muscles. "Quentin??!" The figure that resembled my friend smiled and nodded, waving his right hand in a, 'It's been a while!' gesture. I, almost within a blink of an eye, dropped the wood I held in my hand and then rushed to the door, but as quick as he came, he was gone. I couldn't see him standing there at the end of the steps. I dropped to my knees, examining the area as my breath quickened. I began to feel tears well up in my eyes, eventually I placed my head in my hands and began to spill my held up stress and sadness down my cheeks and into my hands. I wanted to see Quinten again.. He was a brother to me.. 

 

(End of Part 1)


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