Heaven? or HELL?

Basically, a girl knows this guy who has a lot of secrets, and she desperately wants to find these out, but she doesn't, if you get what I mean. Then her Mother dies, and everything turns pear shaped.
READ ON TO FIND OUT MORE!!!

Emily glanced out of the window, to the pouring rain. Dark clouds loomed overhead, and every so often, the hastening clouds would crash together, causing the most frightening thunder and lightning she had ever seen.

The thunder and lightning seemed to be happening over the local church.

She could tell that this wasn’t England’s usual thunder and lightning for this chaotic weather made her cower away from the window every time it struck.

It’s like Zeus and Hercules having another one of their deadly fights, but maybe she had been reading too much of her book on ‘Myths and Legends’.

 

She did not want to go out in this weather; she was weighing her options: stay warm and dry, or go out to meet Michael and his mysterious secrets that she yearned to find out?

She knew there was no competition, so she put her mobile in her coat pocket, and shrugged her coat on; it was still damp from earlier, when she’d come home from school.

She locked the house, as her Mother was upstairs, laid in bed with a cup-o-soup with the flu, which was unfortunate because her Mother’s antibodies weren’t great at the best of times. Her Dad had cleared off to Spain after having an affair with his secretary.

 

She half-ran to the park where she was to meet him, and when she saw him dripping wet, with a slight smile playing around his lips, a shiver ran up her spine.

“Hi” She mumbled, shuffling her feet.

“What’s up?” He noticed her casual fear.

“Nothing much... Mum’s ill.” She shrugged, folding her arms, a gesture that made people wonder what she was really thinking about, and why she was withholding information.

“Oh dear, tell her to get better from me.” He said, sincerely.

“You know what? Forget it. I don’t want to know anything about you. I should never have come. This was all a mistake. Why did you even want to see me?” Emily shook her head, sighing.

“I thought that you’d want to know more about me...” He muttered quietly, disappointed.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow!” She then hurried away to her house.

 

He sighed, wanting to unload some of his secrets onto Emily. She seemed trustworthy enough... She seemed kind enough. She just didn’t seem to realise how nice she was. She just needed to believe in herself. She just needed to believe in herself. She just needed to believe in Michael. Or at least, he wanted her to.

He trudged back to where he’d taken refuge a few weeks ago when he’d first moved to Hornsea. It was a little cave, just off the shore, but he made a seat out of moss, and trapped some African fireflies in a jar to act as a light. It was just enough for him to be able to call it his own little ‘Home Sweet Home’.

 

Meanwhile, back at Emily’s house, Emily was washing up downstairs when she heard a strange sound come from upstairs. She shook her head, telling herself not to be silly, that she was just hearing noises, but then it sounded again. She paused, listening silently, and then when she heard it again, it sounded as if something were shining. Like a sound effect from a movie.

She crept up the stairs, on her tiptoes, having retrieved her baseball bat from the cupboard under the stairs, ready and waiting for who, or what, was in her Mother’s house.

Whatever it was must have sensed her coming, but didn’t disappear fast enough for Emily to see what it really was.

It was as bright as the sun, and clearly not from this planet. Maybe it was a UFO?

Emily didn’t really care what it was at that point, as all she could see was her Mother’s limp body rising in an intense beam of light, towards the ceiling, and then everything vanished. She knew that her Mother wouldn’t be coming back. She wasn’t delusional.

 

She sat down on the carefully made bed (whatever it was must be a neat-freak or something) with her shoulders slumped forward. She told herself not to cry, that it would only make her eyeliner and mascara run. She told herself that it was just a dream... but what was the point in lying to herself?

She squeezed her eyes shut, and pinched her arm, but then when she slowly opened her eyes again, everything was the same. Some hope. Some God, if there was one, she hated him.

The End

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