|
|
|
Air from the vent over her head shifted her bangs listlessly as her fingers raced over the keys. The incessant tapping, the snap-pop of the chewing gum in her mouth, and the hushing insistence of the air conditioning were the only sounds in the room. That and her periodic sigh as the opera buzzing in her ears hit a crescendo. Yeah, opera. It was Carmen, and it was beautiful. At least, she did not care as much for the man's voice as she did for the woman's. The chubby teenager knew a difference in talents when she heard it. This was a nightly routine; locking herself up in her room to chat with a friend she had briefly met once. Her parents did express some worry over this, but she was not about to heed them now, especially when she'd just gotten out of her first two semesters of college. The edges of her lips quirked upwards when her virtual friend typed something on the juvenile side of silly. She was in the middle of typing an immature reply when the power went out and with it, the internet connection. Naturally.
The paper had mentioned storms, but for this one to hit so quickly was an abnormal occurrence. She yanked out the earbuds and placed her laptop on the mattress next to her so she could swivel her legs out of bed. The window confirmed it; flashes of lightning and a sudden battering of heavy raindrops against the window told her that it was time to find the flashlight. The girl was slightly worried about her parents since they were out at a retirement party. Still, they would be fine, she told herself. After all, they were responsible adults and would not do anything too stupid even under the influence of the small amounts of alcohol they would no doubt be consuming. The teenager stumbled over to her desk and opened a highly disorganized drawer. After a few minutes of fumbling for a flashlight and hitting scissors, pens, a stapler, a sewing kit, and several packs of sugarless chewing gum, she finally found it. She flicked it on... and remembered that she had taken out the batteries for her boombox. Grumbing and swearing, she shuffled and felt her way down the hall to her father's office. At least it took little time to find the batteries since her father had a place for everything and was pretty a**l about keeping his things in order. Finally. Illumination. However... now that she was no longer focused on a problem, she realized how oppressively silent the house was. Brushing a strand of dark hair behind her left ear, she crept down the stairs to check things out. An odd sense of something not being quite right pervaded her gut. It increased as she walked through the entryway to reach the kitchen. It was almost like... like a sense of being hunted. She shook her head when her feet touched cold tile. Why was she getting so paranoid about a storm? Sure, the wind howled and pulled at the branches of the trees outside, but it was a silly thing to fear. The girl opened the fridge and shined her flashlight at the different shelves, wondering if she could calm her nerves if she distracted herself with food. She finally settled on an apple, remembering that she was supposed to be on some kind of diet so she could lose weight before swimsuit season truly started. She crunched into the crisp flesh of the fruit before she realized something else. The sounds of the storm outside were getting quieter... but not like the storm was passing. It was more like it was getting muffled, like the house was closing its ear because there was something outside that it did not wish to hear. She forced the bite of fruit down her now-tight throat and stood up. Like she had when she was a child, she suddenly developed a fear of the garage at night. She rubbed her upper arms instinctively and turned the flashlight on the table so that it faced the door.
--to be continued--
TempestuousSeas · Sat May 17, 2008 @ 02:52am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|