by anchor QUITTING » Mon Sep 24, 2012 4:33 pm
please note; stealing this story or my ideas in any way is called plagarism. it's illegal. in case my definition of it isn't enough, you can go here to know more.
ｔｈｅ ｄｏｏｒ ｓｌａｍ ｍｅｄ open with a loud bang, revealing the outline of a girl. She swayed on the spot for a few moments, her silver eyes flitting nervously around the room. "Hello?" Her coice rang out loudly, but it shook, and it was obvious now that the girl was drunk.
when she received no reply, she stumbled into the apartment, allowing the door to shut behind her. she stuck out her arm, running her delicate fingers along the wall, searching for a light switch; when she found it, the girl flicked it on. the brightness temporarily blinded her, and she cried out, throwing and arm over her face and squeezing her eyes shut. still unable to see, she made her way clumsily to the fridge, which she kicked open. the girl moved her arm from her eyes, and narrowed them: whatever she was looking for wasn't in the refrigerator.
"Where is it?" she cried, stepping back a step or two. "Where's my beer!" At this point, she was no longer calm. The words were shouted, and more of a demand than a question. Her slim form began to tremble violently, and she stumbled back and out of the kitchen. She didn't stop in the living room, or her own bedroom, but instead continued walking until her fingers brushed the balcony door's handle. The girl froze before turning slowly and pulling the door open. A gust of wind rushed into the room, blowing her black hair out of her face.
With a shiver, she stepped outside, not bothering to shut the door. Her hands sought the railing, and when they found it, they closed tightly and refused to loosen. "Where the hell is my beer!" she screamed; a crystal tear slid down her cheek, and she leaned forward. "Where is it!" Another tear squeezed out of her eye, and she let out a shaky sob, her body shaking uncontrollably. When she lifted her head the next time, however, she didn't inquire about her beer. "Where's my Zac?" she whimpered. Her voice cracked on the last word, but she continued, "I need him here. I'm a mess; I need him."
Her grey eyes, now dull, shifted to the bedroom door, and she stepped off of the balcony, shutting the door tightly behind her. With quick, graceful movements, she made her way to the living room, where she settled down on the couch, reaching for the television remote.
The dark screen flickered to life, and the girl narrowed her eyes to read the title; it was only the news. Yet she leaned in closer anyway, straining to hear the reporter's gravelly voice. He cleared his throat about something before saying, "Of course, Jones could be anywhere, so we advise you to–" Bang. "–and your windows, as well. It's a necessary safety precaution." Another loud bang cracked through the room before the girl realized what it was: someone knocking at the door. Jumping to her feet, and sprang across the dark living room and opened the door a crack.
A boy was standing on her doorstep. He was drenched in rain, and his blonde hair hung over his face, casting a dark shadow over his features; from what she could see, however, the girl could tell he was quite handsome. Something inside her told her to let him in, and she didn't even bother to ask for a name, much less give hers, before stepping away from the door and allowing him to enter. As he stepped into the light and turned to face her, her brow furrowed in confusion: the stranger looked familiar, though she couldn't place why.
The boy stepped forward, and his teal eyes met hers, the astonishment fading quickly. "I'm Luke Archer, and you are?"
"An – Anne. Anne Rozova."
"Anne?"
"Yes. My name is Anne."[/color]
Last edited by
anchor QUITTING on Tue Sep 25, 2012 6:34 pm, edited 3 times in total.
