((Well, the main idea is true, not some of the details.))
Chapter One
So this is the end. The end of the friendship that had lasted me more than five years. The one that ended because of her, because of Emilie, I thought scornfully.
i was in my tiny, twin sized bed, the same as every morning. Except, today wasn't like every other morning, today was the day I had realized how powerful and hurtful people in middle school could be.
I knew it was coming, I thought.
I finally decided to get up and get the day over with. I made it to the stairs without getting distracted. Halfway down, I paused at the mirror. I looked at myself, and sighed, my straight black hair waving as I did. I looked at my nose, small-nostrilled and freckle-covered as it had always been. I scratched it, and moved on.
When I made my way into the kitchen, I stopped again. I half expected my mother to be there, packing my lunch and kissing me good bye like she had when I was in elementary school.
I shook my head. She hadn't done that for years, and probably never would again.
I took a package of Pop Tarts out from the cabinet, and popped them in the toaster, my black-covered nails flying. While they were heating, I turned on the television. it was Saturday, and I waned to relax. I plopped onto the pristine, perfect white couch, my skull earings bobbing. I flipped through the channels, but there wasn't anything good on.
Oh well, I thought, biting into my pop Tart.
I watched the news all morning, clutching a pillow. The same stories played over, and over, and over again. So, I decided to try and deal with the matter at hand. How do I get Sarah, my former best friend, back from Emilie.
Sarah and I had been together for as long as I could remember. We had laughed together, took swiming lessons together, and even wished together. No, seriously. Seperatley, we had wished on the same star that had pa.ssed. We thought it was pretty cool.
But now she was gone. Taken. Turned. I didn't know what had happened.
Maybe over the summer? I thought, closing my eyes. It was only eleven o'clock, but I was dead tiered. I felt like my body had just run five miles, but my mind was somewhere else when that had happened. I had just started to nod off when from upstairs came Her voice. Her, my step mother, with her stupid blonde hair and bad skin, probably with her fluffy, pink 'Diva' mask on.
"Kris, get me my ointment!" she yelled half asleep.
"Be right there," I yelled back at her.
I got up and ran, on all fours, quickly up the stairs.
((Please criticise!! I need all the help I can get!))