okay you peepz, this is only a draft of something i'm working on. please don't copy as maybe someday i might even get this published (haha) i'll only beable to improve it though is if you people help me.
oh uhm, could someone fix this for me...i did somrthing now it won't go back to the default colur...sorry
It all happened on the day my mom and I were in the mall, walking pass the shops, looking for a present for Granís 70th birthday. We were talking about my supposedly new obsession: emo.
ĎMom for the last time, Iím not emo!í I said exasperated, ĎI like emo stuff but Iím not emo. You know I just find it intriguing.í
ĎI know, I know, but arenít you taking it a bit too far?í she asked, ĎI mean, how are guys going to want to ask you out if you keep on talking about how you love emo things?í I rolled my eyes.
That was so typically my mom, always wondering about what the guys will think. My mom was always trying to get me go out on dates with guys, but always picking the wrong type and I mean honestly, you could really see she was desperate. The reason? Well I donít really date many guys, itís pointless if you donít like what thereís to choose from and thatís sad, extremely sad. But, as usual, my mom thought there was something wrong with meÖ (Donít ask me why)
You canít really blame her. That was just one of her flaws. Otherwise though my mom was really cool. She was an artist (and a brilliant one too). Nearly all art fans knew who she was, Kylara Gold. But not only was Kylara Gold brilliant, oh no, she was also beautiful. She had light honey-gold hair, sparkling blue eyes that could charm anyone and a warm smile that always managed to light up a room. And me? I looked nothing like her, I had long, straight, black hair, bright, unusual indigo eyes and my smileÖwell lets just say I donít really smile a lot (ha-ha, yeah)
ĎFor the last time, Iím not emo.í I told her firmly.
She finally gave up and went back to shopping.
ö * õ
We were in the car on our way to Millyís place, one of my friends. I was going to sleep over there for the weekend. We finally found what we were looking for Gran-a cute little teddy bear clock in which you could programme reminders. We bought this for her since she always seemed to be forgetful these days. Both of us were quiet as we listened to the radio playing (some random pop star singing about how much sheís in pain after her ex-boyfriend dumped her-pathetic). The companionable silence continued as my mind started to driftÖI was wondering what it was like for my mom when she was a child, how she grew up, what school she went to and what type of friends she had, I know its unusual to ask these questions but my mom kept her past a secret from me-donít ask me why, but she did-she always said that her life started when mine started. That didnít make me stop trying to squeeze the info out of her because sometimes she managed to slip and I would be a bit closer to discovering her past. Though what I didnít like about it was the fact that it seemed she was in a huge amount of pain, like someone betrayed her and she still hasnít forgiven that someone yet.
I looked over at my mom, and I gasped (not that she noticed). Something was wrong, really wrong with my mom. It was almost like her forbidden side wanted to come out. Her expression, it was like she was expecting something major was going to happen.
ĎMom?í I asked cautiously, Ďwhatís wrong?í
ĎHmm? Oh nothing. Sorry, my mind was in dreamlandí, she said trying to sound casual. It didnít work. I sighed in resignation. I wasnít in the mood for sad stories anyway. ButÖthat look, somethingís going to happen. I could feel it. If only I knew what! Obviously she knew, but I knew that there was no way she was going to tell me.
It didnít matter anyway. Not now. I would try to ask her later when I got back home.
I wonder if Milly will let me go home a bit earlier than planned. I hope she doesnít mind. I thought.
We were right in front of Millyís place now, parked in the driveway. I hadnít noticed how the time flew by. Milly came out of the house, practically skipping with excitement, her short, curly hair was bouncing of her back. I ran out of the car to her with my back pack-that had everything in-and hugged her fiercely. She squeezed me back. I laughed, there was no way I could ask Milly if it was okay for me to shorten my stay. She would absolutely be heartbroken. We released our grip on each other just in time to see my mom reversing out of the driveway and into the road. I waved a goodbye, wishing that she would be okay. She smiled and waved back to me as she headed off. But, I didnít notice her goodbye greeting. I horrified to notice anything happening other than the deadly intent of the speeding car heading right for my mom. There were no other cars in the road at the moment, so it had to be heading for my mom. I screamed.
ĎMOM!í she turned around to look at me to see what was wrong. She mustíve seen the direction I was looking at because her honey-gold head whipped around to see what was in front of her. The speeding car, it was a Renault Mťgane, came thrashing into my momís car, but as if it changed its mind in the last second, it suddenly swerved to the side. Instead of it now hitting my momís car head on, the Renault Mťgane scraped the side if it, leaving a huge spill of oil. As if it knew I was wondering where the oil came from, the question was answered. The driver of the murderous car left the hatch open, letting oil go where it pleased. Then the driver whipped out a lighter and threw it carelessly towards my mom, but I knew that that was no careless throw. It was done on purpose and I realised that this was what my mom was thinking about earlier, this was the thing that I was so worried about: someone wanted my mom dead. Well that isnít going to happen, I thought as I started running towards my momís car. A fire was a blazing now. Any second it would explode as it reached the oil tank and I had to get my mom out of there before it happened. Come on mom, get out of there. Please! I realised that the assassin vehicle was gone now, vanished like the wind and that I wasnít moving at all. I was being held back against my own will.
ĎLet me go!í I screamed, Ďlet me go!í
ĎNo! I canít let you hurt yourself, I wonít let you,í Milly said in tears. Poor Milly. She was the most sensitive person I knew and anything remotely devastating would put her in tears. But, of course that didnít stop her from trying to do something stupid, no matter what the reason was. I struggled to get out of grip, but I knew it was no use. There was only one more thing that I could do to get her let me go; I was going to have to hurt her. Iím sorry Milly, I amended inside my head, preparing myself for what I was about to do.
ĎI hate you!í I screamed out the painful words, ĎI hate you! How can you do this to me?!?' Tears flowed down my cheek in shame. She gasped and her grip on me slackened. Even though she knew it wasnít true it still bit deep into her heart. I took her momentary confusion to my advantage and wrenched myself out of her arms and ran as fast as I could to my motherís hateful burning prison.
oh and this is only the prologue...