Part 2
A story of a young, motherless girl living in the small, lakeside town of Snug Harbor. Please, please comment!!
My feet were invisible in the black waters of Lake Erie. The only light was the moon, full and speckled brown, and its reflecting twin wriggled like a fish on the water's surface. The rocks were cold beneath me, the chill soaking through my jeans to my skin and almost making me shiver. But I sat in the cold; grateful for the cold; feeling revitalized and content with my legs dangling over the rock's edge; my feet vanishing into the inky blackness of the lake.
I imagined Esther and Titus. Right now, Esther was probably sitting with Jim Crayton, who has his own taxidermy studio, and who often stops by for dinner. Titus was probably with Tori Haybury, who's condescending reputation appealed to my brother for reason unknown to me.
Not until I got to my feet to start heading home did I get the feeling that someone was watching me. It was a creepy feeling, one that wriggled and writhed through my body. I took a deep breath in and held the air in my lungs for as long as I could, thinking for a moment that if I didn't breath, whoever was watching me wouldn't see me. I shook away that childish thought and stood completely still on the rock that protruded far out into the lake. Run. The only thought that came tom mind was run. Run, Kenna. Run. And so I did.
I pushed off the rock, pain in my feet, pain in my lungs.
"Wait!" A voice fell behind me as I put more and more distance between me and the person. Fear of being taken; of being shot in the chest and found washed up on Rockship Shore. That's what I was thinking as I ran in the direction of Marblehead Lighthouse. Someone ran behind me, and I told my self that I would hide in the lighthouse. The lighthouse, just get to the lighthouse. The darkness of the night closed in around me and I was grateful for its blackness that I hid within.
"Wait! Please!"
I thought it odd that whoever was calling after me expected me to stop and wait. The white stone of the lighthouse glowed like an angel, ringed with its red railing. I stumbled over the rocks, but kept running, kept running, the footsteps behind me reverberating off the walls of my head. I was so set on reaching the lighthouse, on locking the heavy door behind me and climbing the spiral staircase to complete safety. I was so set on escaping from whoever was chasing so closely behind me that I forgot about the single maple tree that grew up from the rocks, its roots twisted and tangled. My barefoot caught on a root and I toppled over myself, my head smashing into a rock.
I saw over-sized sneakers, tasted blood in my mouth, and I remember feeling an overwhelming need for my mother, wherever or whoever she was. And as I slowly faded into unconsciousness, a strangely comforting voice that was becoming annoyingly redundant was saying,"I'm sorry, but you should've waited. You should've just waited."
I imagined Esther and Titus. Right now, Esther was probably sitting with Jim Crayton, who has his own taxidermy studio, and who often stops by for dinner. Titus was probably with Tori Haybury, who's condescending reputation appealed to my brother for reason unknown to me.
Not until I got to my feet to start heading home did I get the feeling that someone was watching me. It was a creepy feeling, one that wriggled and writhed through my body. I took a deep breath in and held the air in my lungs for as long as I could, thinking for a moment that if I didn't breath, whoever was watching me wouldn't see me. I shook away that childish thought and stood completely still on the rock that protruded far out into the lake. Run. The only thought that came tom mind was run. Run, Kenna. Run. And so I did.
I pushed off the rock, pain in my feet, pain in my lungs.
"Wait!" A voice fell behind me as I put more and more distance between me and the person. Fear of being taken; of being shot in the chest and found washed up on Rockship Shore. That's what I was thinking as I ran in the direction of Marblehead Lighthouse. Someone ran behind me, and I told my self that I would hide in the lighthouse. The lighthouse, just get to the lighthouse. The darkness of the night closed in around me and I was grateful for its blackness that I hid within.
"Wait! Please!"
I thought it odd that whoever was calling after me expected me to stop and wait. The white stone of the lighthouse glowed like an angel, ringed with its red railing. I stumbled over the rocks, but kept running, kept running, the footsteps behind me reverberating off the walls of my head. I was so set on reaching the lighthouse, on locking the heavy door behind me and climbing the spiral staircase to complete safety. I was so set on escaping from whoever was chasing so closely behind me that I forgot about the single maple tree that grew up from the rocks, its roots twisted and tangled. My barefoot caught on a root and I toppled over myself, my head smashing into a rock.
I saw over-sized sneakers, tasted blood in my mouth, and I remember feeling an overwhelming need for my mother, wherever or whoever she was. And as I slowly faded into unconsciousness, a strangely comforting voice that was becoming annoyingly redundant was saying,"I'm sorry, but you should've waited. You should've just waited."
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