"hey madeline sorry im late" amanda says apologetically. I look into her caramel coloured eyes, shes always been better than me even my parents preffered her. "oh it's fine" i say poison lacing my voice. Just you wait. I think. Just you wait till i can prove myself and everyone will finally prefer me. As i finish that thought an explosion sounds throughout the room. A sadistic smile forms on my face and a witch like cackle forms in my throat Amanda looks at me scared "whats going on madeline" she screams as fire starts to envelop the house. "ill...
Three new followers, this morning. Steady growth. Not YouTube Channeller level. Not like millions of subscribers. But that was to be expected.
A few more Views. Five new followers. Already! She was clearly having an impact, this quiet young woman, not wanting attention. Not seeking the lime light. Just tryng to escape a stalker. Not a regular follower. No one listening. No one to help. Safety in numbers?
Two more following. The blind leading the blind. Not even "word of mouth". Just trying to make her way in the World. Just trying to survive. And yet they saw. They saw...
A girl with caramel eyes. That's all I know about her. She's a girl with caramel eyes. I wonder, vaguely, what shade of caramel: I murdered someone in a sweets factory once. There were so many different shades of caramel. Brown, dripping, honey sticky and sweet. Caramel is a wide field. I hope there is time to paly with her before she dies. That's the best part, playing with them. I want to watch her eyes widen as she watches me trace a knife around her throat. Maybe, if she's not a fat lump, I'll even kiss her. Not soft,...
Tell her, he told himself. Tell her before it's too late. From a scuffed-over, leather-upholstered chair near the front window, he watched her. She turned the crank on the machine. Or knob. It made a screeching sound. On the counter she banged something hard. Again.
He looked around. No one noticed.
She swiped at the counter, then her hair. She was wearing some kind of kerchief. That's not right, he thought. And scrambled for it, what do they call it: This pleased him.
Haltingly, he crept forward. Praying no one would notice him, because they might stop him before he...
Shannon sat up, her eyes wide open. She wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep. She looked around the room (dirty socks, cat puke in one corner, empty Miller cans, a laundry basket filled with clean clothes) and wished it was all unfamiliar. She looked at the man next to her. His back was smooth and tanned. A tiny mole winked at her from his left shoulder blade. She wished he was a stranger.
Shannon lay back down. The pillow was damp with sweat, her sweat. Had she been dreaming or coming out of a fever?
"Where are you...
The traitor looked at the girl with caramel coloured eyes through the bars of her cell. His glance paused at her bare breasts, then travelled up to meet her shimmering gaze.
"All you had to do was look the other way, and run with the rest of them," he said. "But no. Your stubborn principles got in the way and look where they have brought you."
The girl stared at him, whishing daggers in his eyes, his heart and his groin.
"Now, now," he said. "You don't seem too receptive to the guards advances. It's a shame, things would be...