Only read this if you have the patience

[Cassie]

Hi!

Okay, like the title says, if you're going to read this, you're going to need some patience. {yes}

I promised to write a story that I'll update if anyone takes an interest in. I'm doing this because over the Summer I'll be bored so, why not?

The main character is a 15 (almost 16) year old girl named Caitlynn. The story is in bold.

PS: This chapter is kind of depressing, but I don't intend all of the chapters to be that way. I'm just trying to describe the atmosphere of Caitlynn's life. When the story gets deeper it's not always going to be like this.

[u]Chapter One

I realised the sky was already darkening now.

I sat on the window ledge, still, aching in my legs, a book resting in my hands. How had time flown by so fast? It almost seemed to me that whoever controlled the hands of time was losing his or her touch. They had accidentally pressed the 'fast-forward' button, fallen asleep and forgotten to turn it off.
Yawning widely, I rubbed at my tired eyes, lids heavy and daring to close. I slithered off the ledge and crept into the bathroom across the hall. The bathroom smelled overwhelmingly of mother's favourite butter cream and vanilla scented candles she propped beside the bathtub every evening after a long soak. The bathroom floor was partially concealed in puddles of soapy bath water. I guessed she must have just left the bathroom.

I  cautiously waded through the watery stepping stones over to the lucid yellow sink, clutching the tap and twisting it hard, so a fountain of cascading water crashed furiously into the sink and splattered the walls, floors and of course, myself. Even this incident could not alert me.                                                                                       
I thrashed my arms wildly and panicked as I managed to switch the tap back off and crumbled to the wet floor, tears streaming down my face and colliding with the fresh tap water that had jumped onto my cheeks. The tears burned my skin, but I made no effort to wipe them away.
I wasn’t crying because I had been attacked by a frenzied army of tap water. I was upset because earlier today I realised I’d gone crazy.

My younger brother, Charlie, and my father, Michael, kept invading my vision, my dreams, my thoughts and everywhere I looked. Nothing wrong with that, right? Only one, minor problem; they were both dead.

They were all I ever saw, recently. They would be there, an expression of urgency and alarming trepidation plastered across their ghostly faces. The outline of their quivering bodies were distorted and blurred, but they’d stand in rooms as though they were really there, as though they’d never died, as though everything was as it should have been.

My brother died aged 14 just 8 months ago. He was stabbed by a gang of rampant youth.                               
My father died aged 41 while my mother was still pregnant with Charlie after he was run over by a tram on his way home.

When I was 2 and my mother was still a young woman, expecting another child and in a very stable marriage with my father, she was the happiest woman alive, she told me. She could have asked for nothing more. Admittedly, we never had the money we needed, but we managed, and mum, dad and I would laugh together, they’d take me out to the park to feed the ducks on sunny days and we’d go to the beach to play in the ocean and build sandcastles. We were happy.

And then we lost everything.

My father did not leave a will, so we fell into heavy debts and were forced to move into a small, dirty town, in a house that resembled a basement more than anything. Mum collapsed with the loss of Michael, but she did everything she could for me and Charlie, her babies, her children, her life.         
The loss of Charlie sent my world upside down, and I was the one who took care of mum. I was all she had to stop her from crawling into a coma of depression. I didn’t want her to try to kill herself again, like she had when she discovered her husband’s death. She didn’t know it, but I needed her so much. I depended on her. Without her, I’d have nobody.
I was bound to misery, I was locked into insanity in my mind, I was constantly fighting with my emotions, screaming inside and yelling for help but nobody ever heard my cries.

And so, here I was. Still fighting. Still going. Doing whatever I could to keep mum calm. I thought this was why I was seeing the souls of my deceased family; it was all getting too much for me. Perhaps I both mentally and physically could no longer deal with the heavy burden I had to carry every day?

Sometimes I didn’t know whether I appreciated seeing my father and brother again, or whether it was killing me inside. They were almost a drug. When I needed them, they’d be there, distressed and urgent, calling out to me as though they needed me to follow them, but I never did. What would happen if I were to pursue them? Would they take me with them? Would I join the other side? I could never do that. I wanted to, so badly, but I had to stay, for the sake of my mother. Why didn’t they see that? Why couldn’t they just let me look after her?
So this was why I was breaking down on the sodden bathroom floor. I cried until I couldn’t breathe, until no tears were left to escape my bloodshot eyes, so tired and weak and consumed in my own almost ludicrous pain. I crawled across the floor, my vision cloudy as I dropped once again to the ground and curled up into a shivering ball. Finally I admitted defeat as my lids instantly dropped.

                                                                                      *

Next morning I awoke cold and wet, a sharp beating pain in the side of my head and a smarting ache in my lower back. Why hadn’t mum woken me last night? Why had she left me to sleep in a freezing bathroom?
A heaved myself with what little strength I could muster before I slowly descended the uncarpeted stairs, only layered with bleak dust and old nails that were willing and ready to stab at the skin of your feet if you happened to forget to wear shoes on your journey up or down stairs.

I found mum in the kitchen, sat on a chair, head slumped on the table, surrounded by empty wine bottles and a glass precariously balanced in her sleepy hand. Drinking to drown the sorrows, I supposed. Just as usual. I peaked at her face, sure enough she was sound asleep, a look of confusion pierced on such a young face for her age.
I fiddled in the bread basket and ended up eating a breakfast of toast and marmalade alone in the living room, leaving my mum to rest. I’d wake her up later, after I was ready for school. I really didn’t need to be dealing with her just yet.

                                                                                        *

Just an hour later, I’d dressed for school, gotten mum to bed upstairs and managed to arrive at school before the late bell signaled, which is rare for me; I’m always late.                                             
Now, how do I explain school for me without going into an in-depth presentation? It’s burning hell. I’d rather work in a dungeon with mice and skeletons than go here every day.                       

I tried to poise myself as I pushed and shoved my way through sheets of clamorous students. Being petite, I’d end up battered and bruise by the time I approached the classrooms.
I was the loser, the nobody, the one people feared to be seen talking to. In every class I’d sit alone in the corner, miserable, never once concentrating on a word the teacher spoke. I’d instead doodle in my work books, usually made-up islands that I created in my mind, happy places where the sun always hung high in the sky, where the glow wrapped you up like a cosy blanket, where you always felt motivated and full of thriving spirit. In the past, these kinds of places would be prominent in my dreams; I’d travel there every night through a long, dark passage. These were the good old days before my brother and father stole my dreams and replaced them with nightmares.
Of course I was bullied for being different.  That was my punishment for having a deplorable life. What did I care? The pain they inflicted was nothing compared to what I’d been through in the past. I’d built up an armour; I was shielded from their shots. They didn’t matter to me.

Today was like any other day; lonely, boring, insignificant to me.

The weather turned sharp and crisp and rain drizzled, a faint, fresh earthly smell lingering in the air. In an effort to avoid the house, I made my way to the local cemetery.

On the journey home, I dropped by the florists and purchased a bouquet of blue and pink roses. Roses have always been a family favourite when it comes to flowers.

The weather turned sharp and crisp and rain drizzled, a faint, fresh earthly smell lingering in the air. In an effort to avoid the house, I made my way to the local cemetery.

I slipped through the iron black gate and began at a run as the rain started to increase in pace and attack the floor like watery daggers. My brother and father were buried together right in the heart of the cemetery. Around them were graves so extravagantly decorated, so tall and glossy and adorned with incandescent, colourful flowers. Then there was Michael and Charlie’s, humble in comparison. I sighed as I settled in front of them, letting the rain pound at me viciously.                                           
Subsequent to pushing the roses in both vases on the graves, I bounded into an intense conversation with myself about what had happened since the last time I’d visited them the month before. How mum was, school, how I yearned for them to still be here. And then...

‘Why... why do you keep haunting me? What is it, exactly? I... I don’t understand what you’re wanting from me. I don’t really think I like it anymore. Sometimes it scares me. Can’t you please stop? Please? I sound like such an idiot right now. But I’m not as brave or as valiant as I would like to be. I really just need it to be mum and me right now. I can’t bare to see you... like you are. With such pain in those ghostly eyes... urgency... fear. Please stop now.’

The second that last word escaped my lips, a vigorous wind erupted, thrashing the trees, pulling leaves off branches, sending shivers and whirls dancing through the grass. The rain beat down so hard that ear-splitting thuds sounded through the air as the droplets collided with the ground. The sky was inked dark grey, the air was rumbling with rebellious thunder and blinding flashes of white-gold light caressed the cemetery.

I didn’t know what was happening, but my heart sprang into a fleeting race as I jumped up promptly and sprinted back through the cemetery. The rain was so icy and the wind was glacial, biting at my skin and making my head spiral out of control, my vision obscured as I ran with all the energy I contained.
I could see something black in the distance; the gate! The sky was becoming inky ebony as I eventually felt my hands grab at the iron bars of the water-stained gate. I tugged to open them. They wouldn’t. I heaved and tugged and pulled, and they wouldn’t move. I panicked. I screamed and yelled with horror as the world began to darken and the rain was replaced by pellets of frigid hail snow that bruised my skin. Why was the gate locked? Who’d locked it? Why couldn’t I get out?

Questions paraded through my mind as I continued to scream for help. The thunder grumbled deeply. The wind thrashed my hair into my face, twisting chaotically around my head. I tugged one last time at the iron bars. Nothing.

I was stuck in a cemetery in ferocious weather and there was no getting out.

If you managed to read that all the way through, thanks! This took me just over two hours, so I appreciate it! If you have any questions about the chapter please ask away!

- Cassie x

[FOBluvr987]

hehe, love it! very creative! I'd love to see the next one! And poor mum, micheal must've been wonderful!I really lurv it! PLEASE FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT IS PURE continue! kthanxbai

[b-rad]

i dont have time to read it yet but i will dont worry

[Cassie]

Okay, cool, thanks. I did work hard on it.

[Paul]

Whoa...

WOW!

Um, whoa...

That was amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't think I've read anything so descriptive and, well, AWESOME!, before! (well, HP, but still)

Karma is DEFINATELY going to you on that one!

[Cassie]

Thanks.

I don't know whether to carry on though, considering I haven't received much feedback, but thank you!

[Paul]

YES YES YES YES YYEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!


MORE!

Or else...xD