Creative Writing _Unknown Title_

*Note: As of May 25, 2006: I am still thinking of a title for this story.*

Prologue
"I was a normal child. Or so I thought I was when I woke that fine morning, looking outside of the white paned windows on the third floor of my family estate. I gazed out there, aimlessly, until my cinnamon eyes came across the peculiar tree behind the house. It seemed to have glared at me, as if it was calling me towards it... It was a feeling that could never be forgotten. It scared me, Mother... It frightens me so."

I remember that many years ago, I did the most unthinkable thing.

Lightning and thunder were both a part of that dark, sickening night. My naked bare feet felt the oak flooring as I escaped the vicinity of my cool bedroom. I had left my safe haven for now, off to perhaps get a drink of nice, breathtaking water from the kitchen faucet.

My heart was racing fast, for I was never too fond of wandering the estate all my lonesome. Nanny was sleeping in the next room after mine. Mother and Father were still out, doing only God knew what. My assumption was clearly simple: they were working late, as usual.

Oh, did I fear the night. Thought perhaps that night, I had given all hope. Finally arriving within the kitchen, I felt a sudden chill up my spine. That first step wasn't the best experience. I felt eyes on me. Sick eyes. Feared eyes. So merciless.

Sarah...

Was that just my conscious? I only hoped that it was.

I crept towards the faucet with a glass cup. Reaching for the tap, I again noticed the backyard. The tree stood so peacefully, yet so dark and frightening... Yet, I started walking towards it.

Sarah...

Afterwards... I couldn't remember the rest of the night, only to find myself here... in the forest with you.

 

I like it. The sense of mystery is good at the end and details were good as well. Keep it up ^_^

 

Chapter 1
I lived across the street from a family that went by the name of Kirsten. Not to long ago, I remember police cars surrounding the home with DO NOT CROSS lines, as ambulances and fire trucks filled the street. Whatever neighbors were home, came out, appalled that anything could have happened in the peaceful neighborhood. But tranquility was not an issue here. Whatever happened that night had changed many things.

First off, it had affected our old neighbors that lived on Pickett Centennial since the beginning of its time. They had gathered their belongings a week later, only for us to find out they had moved elsewhere. Being a child of eight, I did not understand why such an event had affected them so.

Secondly, rumors started to fill the streets about that house and that family. On the contrary, Mrs. Nelson, a good friend of my deceased mother’s had always come by, ranting about how witchcraft was involved in such a feat. Witchcraft! Of all things, witchcraft certainly had to be the answer to these maggots!

Thirdly, the home itself was abandoned. For many years it was left alone with the beautiful garden within the back… I must say, even with no care left in the world for that home, the garden is still beautiful. There is nothing to fear.

Since then, even if I dared not to speak for myself, I will say this much. I grew up in this garden, this very garden where the family gathered every so often, laughing and cheering for each other. The tulips still grow; the sun still shines upon the open field at the uncut grass and the unwedded flowers and bushes.

*NOTE: More will be added on later.*