Footsteps. Drawing ever nearer to where she was, came the sound of another. Someone was following her. Someone larger, she guessed, by the sound of the heavy breathing and loud footfall. Footsteps. Her own pace increased, but it didn't seem to make a difference. By this point, she was almost running; running from the unknown, running from the figure behind her. She reached the top of the hill and risked a glance behind her. Yes, her earlier prediction had been correct. Silhouetted in the moonlight was a large, strong-looking man. She began sprinting, running as fast as she could down into the valley below.
Her hindsight was 20/20, just like they always said. Arriving home after her curfew didn't seem like the best option at the time, so she opted for the shortcut. Now, maybe walking through a graveyard at night would have triggered warning bells in her head, but angry parents seemed more intimidating at the moment. So she took the shortcut.
Glancing back again, as if by a nervous habit, she saw that the man was still following her. The distance between them was a bit greater this time, though the small part of her brain that was still logical knew that it was because he had just been running uphill, while she had ran downwards. The footsteps of the man were heavier now, as he thundered down the hill after her.
Breath. She was running out of it now; her body wasn't used to holding such fast speeds for an extended period of time. There, not too far ahead of her now- the morgue. Maybe she could hide there, so the man wouldn't find her. With a last burst of speed, she ran to the building, only to find it locked. Too tired to run any farther, she hid in the shadows of the building, hoping the stranger would pass her by.
The shadow in the background of the morgue, the unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley…
Footsteps. Slower this time, but they cut through the silence with an astounding force. She shivered involuntarily, though she wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or the fear. Most likely, it was a mixture of both.
The footsteps stopped. She froze completely; she even stopped breathing for a few moments as she listened with every fiber of her being for a sound, a movement.
"You sure can run, girl." The voice was deep and calm, as if the man was used to chasing girls through graveyards at midnight. She remained silent, not wanting to give away her location. It didn't matter, though, for a second later his hand closed around her wrist. A squeak of shock and fear escaped her, but she still said nothing.
"A pretty thing like you shouldn't be out walking alone this late at night. You might get… hurt." He smirked as he said that, and it infuriated her. Not knowing what else to do, she slapped him. A more intelligent creature might have kneed him, or punched him, or something more intimidating than a very feminine slap which gave more noise than pain. But by that point, the last rational part of her mind had frozen and she was acting purely on impulse. Still, the slap seemed the surprise the man, though that surprise quickly turned to anger.
He pushed her roughly against the wall of the morgue. "You're going to regret that." One of his fingers lightly traced her lips as he gazed lustfully at her. Again acting on impulse, she bit his finger as hard as she could. Jerking his hand away quickly, he grabbed her other hand and held both of her wrists above her head with one of his own large hands, leering down at her.
"Why you little-"
What little thing she was, she never got to find out. At that moment, the moonlight reflecting off the barrel of the rifle pressed against the man's temple was much more distracting than whatever he had been saying.
"Let her go. Now." The voice, belonging to another male, was smooth and calm, yet had a certain deadly edge to it. Shooting an angry look at the girl, the larger, unarmed man released her wrist.
"You have twenty seconds. If I can still see you after those twenty seconds are over, I'll shoot you. Understand?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "Your time starts… now."
Immediately, the man took off running, back up the hill the girl had been chased down only a few minutes before. He cleared the top with two seconds remaining, and was gone.
"Hello there, the angel from my nightmare," he whispered, lightly grabbing her hand and pressing his lips gently against it. His tone was much more carefree and casual now that he no longer had to play the part of the hero, though it still had a serious edge to it.
"Darren? Damn it, you scared me!" She breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar title; he had been calling her that for years. "What are you doing out here, this late at night?"
"I was waiting for you… I knew you'd be at the party late, and would take the shortcut through the graveyard. I wanted to make sure you'd get home safely."
The pale light of the moon illuminated his face just enough so that she could see him blush.
"Thank you…" she whispered, blushing herself and looking at her feet shyly.
Twenty minutes later they were standing outside of her house, basking in the safe glow of the porch lights. They had walked together in silence; one glad to be safe, the other glad to have her safe.
"Thank you, again… for what you did back there, and for walking me home," she said softly.
"I… it was nothing, Raina."
"So you say, but, well-"
She was cut off abruptly as his lips met hers in a short, but sweet kiss. Before her mind had even registered what was happening, it was over, and with a quick apology, he ran off down the street. Her fingers flew to her lips; much like the creepy stalker man's had earlier, but in a much more tender way.
And in the night we'll wish this never ends, we'll wish this never ends.
Smiling to herself, the bad events of the night a blur in her memory, she stepped inside her house. Luckily, her parents weren't standing beside the door, ready to scold her for arriving an hour past curfew, as they were already asleep. Once upstairs, she threw herself onto her bed with a sigh. She was tired- yes, very tired- but she wouldn't be able to sleep. Not after that. Perhaps, again, a more logical person might be unable to sleep because they were close to getting raped that night, but Raina wasn't a very logical person. No, she was much more preoccupied by the fact that she had been kissed that night, by none other than her old friend Darren.
Where are you? And I'm so sorry.
Darren paced in his room, occasionally stopping to hit his head against the wall a few times before going back to continue on his attempt at wearing a hole in his carpet.
"What on earth possessed you to kiss her?! After what she went through earlier, the last thing she needs is you throwing yourself at her feet! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
After a few more seconds of ranting to himself, he went back to his wall, apparently still under the belief that if he hit his head enough times, time would rewind and he could keep himself from kissing her.
I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight. I need somebody and always, this sick strange darkness comes creeping on so haunting every time.
Raina, rather annoyed after spending an hour lying in bed with no signs of falling asleep any time soon, threw back to covers and got out of bed. Pulling her sketchbook out of her desk drawer, she began to draw.
A few more hours passed. She leaned back in her chair and evaluated her work. Despite having done it in a rushed manner, it had actually turned out pretty well; even the coloring was amazing.
A girl- a fallen angel, actually, as portrayed by the black wings on her back- sat on a rock in the shadows of what looked suspiciously like the morgue she had been at earlier. She was idly playing with a small silver chain in her hand, unaware that was being watched as she stared sadly at the ground. A tale, thin, and pale man dressed in a plain black suit stood off to the side, holding a single red rose as he watched her with longing.
And as I stared I counted the webs from all the spiders, catching things and eating their insides; like indecision to call you, and hear your voice of treason. Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?
Darren was lying on his bed, staring up at his ceiling. He really needed to dust; there were far too many spider webs across his ceiling. There were so many, in fact, that his entire ceiling seemed to have disappeared due to the cobwebs strewn across it. Somehow, though they were completely unrelated, his mind drifted back to Raina. He wanted to call her, to apologize more or just to explain why he did that, but he couldn't bring himself to pick up the phone. Or, if he managed to get that far, he dialed the first few numbers before putting it back down.
Don't waste your time on me; you're already the voice inside my head…
Raina gave up on all attempts of sleep at about four in the morning. She needed to talk to Darren; what she would say to him, she had absolutely no idea, but that wasn't very important at the moment.
Her window would make a good escape route.
I miss you, miss you…
Footsteps, in the rain outside. Who would be out this early in the morning? Oh well. It didn't really matter.
Knocking. Double take. Knocking? Where was that coming from? Darren looked at his window, and instantly his confused expression became one of surprise. There was Raina, standing in the rain that had started ten minutes ago, completely soaked and looking uncertain.
He quickly jumped out of bed and opened the window, pulling her through and into his arms.
"What…? Why…?" He couldn't think in complete sentences at the moment, let along speak in them.
She kissed him softly, almost in a replay of what he had done earlier.
"Hello there, the angel from my nightmare," she whispered.
This didn't turn out anything like I originally had in mind. Darren was actually supposed to be the rapist guy, only in a more toned-down way. Even the writing isn't like my usual style.
The italicized parts are from Blink-182's "I Miss You." The entire story was based off of that song, as listening to the same song for 6 hours straight usually will give me a story idea based off of that song. "Hello there, the angel from my nightmare" is also from that song.