Amara Chapter One

Chapter One:

Drip, drip, drip. The sound of water splashing onto the stone floor was one disturbing noise. No, it wasn’t water, couldn’t be. There was no water for miles. How did she know that? Don’t ask. But Amara knew for certain that this was the case. Scanning the area, everything seemed still, like time froze. Everything stopped making sound. The only noise that Amara could hear was the dripping.

She wished it could have been water dripping, for her thirst was huge, making her mind think of how thirsty she was, instead of other things. Important things like how to find where she was. How could she find her way out? It was pitch black! No noises to guide her, no light showing her the way. Could she be lost? No, she couldn’t be! Amara never got lost! It was simply impossible.

Well, I’m starting to think it’s possible, now. Amara looked around again. Straining her eyes to try and find a way out. With no light, it felt as if she was trying to find a piece of black clothing in her sister’s closet. The darkness pained her eyes. Her mind was screaming to stop looking. It felt as if her eyes were going to bleed.

With her eyes about to give out, Amara relied on her sense of hearing. The dripping sound was far off now. Maybe she walked away from it… Maybe it walked away from her! She shivered at that thought. How creepy was that? Running in the direction of the noise, it got louder with each step she took. It felt like hours when she was running. Even though Amara was in good shape from the conditioning she received from training, Amara felt like no air touched her lungs. Maybe she didn’t have lungs.

Oh, don’t be stupid! You have lungs! Breathe! With a mental push she gave herself, air seemed to somehow seep into her body. But now her legs started to protest! Think, she told herself, look up, not down at your feet. But where was up? Where was in front of her? Black was everywhere! It covered everything! Anything! This reminded Amara if when she was little and she was attempting to paint the sun black, it started running down the water trails left behind from her blue sky that had yet to dry. Once the black touched the blue, it tainted the whole sky! Black took over her whole painting.

Shaking her head, Amara ventured on about finding the dripping "water". Willing and pushing her body to its limits hurt. Badly. But it was a price she was willing to give for her present. After what seemed like another couple hours, a small speck of light gave way to the darkness. Amara sprinted as fast as she should to get closer. Something was standing in the light. Maybe it could help her.

But as she approached, Amara skidded to a stop just ten feet away. For the light showed her worst fear. And, she had been right on one account. It hadn’t been water. It was blood. For in the light was a person soaked in blood, gazing directly at her with scorching bright red eyes. Then he smiled, his weapons now displayed.

~x~x~

She bolted up toward the ceiling. Sitting up straight, Amara wiped the sweat off her face and body. Her bed was damp from her nightmare, so instead of returning back to bed, she went out into the hallway. Black greeted her once again, but this time it wasn’t a nightmare. She knew that for a fact.

Seeing as she had lived in this house for her whole life, Amara knew her way around no problem. Walking down the hallway, she knocked on the very last door. While Amara stood there, banging and many other random noises sounded on the opposite side. When it came to a halt, the door opened and there stood Amara’s brother, Stefan. Grabbing her arm, he quickly tugged her inside the safety of his domain.

"Amara, the dreams… they've started again... didn’t they?" Stefan walked over to his black-sheeted bed, pushing her to sit down on it.

"Yeah, they have." Amara replied, while her brother took a seat next to her.

"I thought as much." Sighing, he dragged his hand through his hair.

Amara smiled when she saw his black painted nails. That’s what she liked about him, he wasn’t afraid to do whatever he wanted.

"What am I going to do, Stefan? This is the second time this has happened! I’m running out of options!" Amara panicked, a single drop of sweat danced on her brow. "I’m afraid, I really am!"

Stefan laid back onto the flannel covers, "Let me think about it over night, Amara. I promise I’ll know what to do tomorrow."

"But I don’t want to go back to sleep. I refuse to dream!" Amara protested, slamming against the bed, making her silent anger rise even more.

"You won’t dream in my room, it’s impossible. You know this as well as I do."

"He’ll make me dream! He’ll break past the barriers and force me to have another nightmare! I won’t-"

Stefan suddenly shot up beside her, covering her mouth with his hand. "When have I ever lied to you, Amara? When? Name a date and place."

This seemed to calm Amara down a bit. She took a deep breath, then exhaled, letting go of some of her fury. Closing her eyes, Amara liberated the stress and fear and anxiety away from her mind. Her head had a knack for storing up and saving up unwanted dread and melancholy feelings. Those outlooks only pulled her down. Dragging her toward depression and hopelessness. She wouldn’t go back there. Amara refused to go back to them.

Stefan raised a hand up, brushing the stray strands of hair away from her face. "Don’t worry, little sister, I’ll take care of you."

Amara blinked, holding back tears, "I just, I can’t… go back to nothing. I can’t-"

"And you won’t!" He interrupted her, "I won’t lie to you, sis, the shadows want you, but I’m going to figure out why."

"Steffy, thank you."

He smiled, "No problem, just go to bed, leave everything to me. Dream of nothing."

Amara smiled lightly and nodded softly. Laying her head on the black pillow, she fell asleep, dreaming of… nothing. Nothing.

~x~x~

"What’s my name, what’s my name, hold the s, because I am an aint."

Amara sat up, rubbing her eyes, trying to be able to see. Stefan had let Marilyn Manson wake her up. Such a nice brother. Even though she was a zombie, Amara tapped her foot and bobbed her head to the catchy beat. Then, when her favorite part came on, she mouthed the words. But, when the song ended and Kaboom, Kaboom came on, she got up and stumbled downstairs for breakfast.

The sound of Jesse McCartney welcomed her awake to her sister’s time for music. Glancing at the clock, Amara read 6:29, only one more minute till it was her time. Grinning she skipped to the fridge and took a swig of orange juice right straight from the container.

"Ew! Now anybody else who drinks that is going to get goth-a-phobia!" Taira cried out, a look of disgust framed her clear, clean face.

"Oh, Taira, I’m sorry, did I ruin your day? Let me know if I can do it again with anything else."

"Oh shut up!" Taira scowled, her sparkling ocean blue eyes revolted with this site of her.

"Wow," Amara fed her older sister’s anger, "great argument you put up against me. Really, I’m just, what’s the word, shocked? I mean, seriously though, that took its toll, right here." Amara put her right hand over her heart, smiling wickedly.

"Go to hell you little bitch! I’m sure Satan is just dying to hail his worshipper home."

"And I’ll get your little dog, too!" Amara randomly threw out, waiting for this to kick her sister in the face.

Random statements always seemed to annoy the crap out of Taira. Amara concluded this at an early age when Taira picked her on and when she put up some stupid, nothing-to-do-with-this-matter, excuse up. Her sister blew up like baking soda and vinegar.

Taira screamed out in rage. "What is wrong with you?"

Amara shrugged, feeding her sister’s anger.

Taira’s eyes narrowed, "Ever since you were born, I’ve never liked you. There has always been that vibe around you, where it portrays danger coming off your body in huge waves. I’ve been the smart one, I’ve never submitted to your devil worship or your gothic appearance. I’m not ever going to join your ranks! You’ll never bait me! Ever! I’m not falling for your act!"

"That’s fine with me, sister, because you know what," Amara stated her defense, "It doesn’t matter to me, not at all. Don’t submit, don’t like my gothic look, see if I really fucking care. Your judgment means nothing to me! Zip! I get gawked at, judged everyday, and I don’t give a damn. Those people don’t know me! They never will! Good! I don’t want them to! They’re not good enough to know me!"

That caught Taira’s complete attention. She stared at Amara with an oh-no-she-didn’t look etched on her facial expression.

"Yeah, Taira, that’s right! You heard me!" Amara said, "and you want to know what? Heh, neither are you."

~x~x~