Treehouse
Chapter 1 - Shortcut
"I'll see you later, Sara," I called over my shoulder as I entered the woods to take my usual shortcut home.
Sara Yu is my best friend, she had been since I started high-school three years ago. She has shoulder length, black hair, that hangs like curtains, straight and evenly around her oriental face. She had big, chestnut brown eyes that glistened beneath her thick-framed glasses. Both her parents are of Chinese origins, they had moved to the U.K. before she was born. She goes with an emo slash punk rock style in her clothes and the same with her music.
I, on the other hand, am not into that sort of thing. I follow the crowd. I wear the same clothes as everyone else, listen to the music in the charts at the moment and hang out with just about everybody. Not because I'm popular, but because I try to mingle, I try to look popular. I have long, red hair that hangs perfectly straight until it swirls into large, loose curls just below my waist. Across my rosy cheeks and nose, just below my hazel eyes, lightly coloured freckles are scattered.
Familiar was a word too weak to describe the familiarity of this small forest to me. I'd walked the same road home everyday since I was six, and now, eight years later, i can immediately realise any changes to the layout and any removal of the greenness.
Briskly, I walked to make sure that I would not become just another character in one of the many stories I have heard. Quite scary stories that, although they worried me, did not scare me at all.
But then a faint sound became hear-able, and my heart started to race. I was scared. As I got closer, I could make out the tune of the song that was playing from what I could only think of being somebody's mobile. Although I did not actually know the name of the song, I knew that it was one by one of Sara's favourite bands. I approached the sound with more caution than I had ever given walking through the forest in twilight.
And then I could see him. It was Steffan Greywood, one of Sara's "emo" lad mates. He was in a large oak tree; I could not see what he was doing. He looked like he was tying some ropes of some kind. Maybe he was making a treehouse? Or ladders? Or something...
When he became more visible, I could tell what he was really doing. He was about to hang himself. About to commit suicide. About to die.
I could not let this happen. Although I had never really talked to him or got to know him, I could not watch him die. I had to interfere.
"NOOO!!!!" I screamed at the top of my voice, sprinting like a clumsy cheater towards him.
Sara Yu is my best friend, she had been since I started high-school three years ago. She has shoulder length, black hair, that hangs like curtains, straight and evenly around her oriental face. She had big, chestnut brown eyes that glistened beneath her thick-framed glasses. Both her parents are of Chinese origins, they had moved to the U.K. before she was born. She goes with an emo slash punk rock style in her clothes and the same with her music.
I, on the other hand, am not into that sort of thing. I follow the crowd. I wear the same clothes as everyone else, listen to the music in the charts at the moment and hang out with just about everybody. Not because I'm popular, but because I try to mingle, I try to look popular. I have long, red hair that hangs perfectly straight until it swirls into large, loose curls just below my waist. Across my rosy cheeks and nose, just below my hazel eyes, lightly coloured freckles are scattered.
Familiar was a word too weak to describe the familiarity of this small forest to me. I'd walked the same road home everyday since I was six, and now, eight years later, i can immediately realise any changes to the layout and any removal of the greenness.
Briskly, I walked to make sure that I would not become just another character in one of the many stories I have heard. Quite scary stories that, although they worried me, did not scare me at all.
But then a faint sound became hear-able, and my heart started to race. I was scared. As I got closer, I could make out the tune of the song that was playing from what I could only think of being somebody's mobile. Although I did not actually know the name of the song, I knew that it was one by one of Sara's favourite bands. I approached the sound with more caution than I had ever given walking through the forest in twilight.
And then I could see him. It was Steffan Greywood, one of Sara's "emo" lad mates. He was in a large oak tree; I could not see what he was doing. He looked like he was tying some ropes of some kind. Maybe he was making a treehouse? Or ladders? Or something...
When he became more visible, I could tell what he was really doing. He was about to hang himself. About to commit suicide. About to die.
I could not let this happen. Although I had never really talked to him or got to know him, I could not watch him die. I had to interfere.
"NOOO!!!!" I screamed at the top of my voice, sprinting like a clumsy cheater towards him.