The Chatterbox Has Spoken.
Prologue.
Nine girls sat in a sleepover that was reaching the epitome of boredom. They'd lost all conversation starters, gossiped about every celebrity and watched every movie possible. Heather Jackson, a newcomer to the group with a distinctive Irish accent and a very quiet and mysterious personality suggests they play with her chatterbox which she conveniently had with her...
Her chatterbox is very strange and doesn't have any good things in it, instead predicts the death of six out of all the girls, saying it will take place some time the following year.
That night there was a fatal fire in which one girl died, one girl fled and seven mourned.
Just one year later, one in their group dies just as the chatterbox had predicted. They don't take notice yet until the second girl dies and they remember the chatterbox. It's up to them to try and prevent the remaining deaths. One by one girls are dying. All the same as the chatterbox has said.
A/N: This is just the prologue that's why it's in third person. Everything else onwards will be in first person.
On 29th June 2012, a small clique of nine girls gathered round in a spacious room. Alexia, the excessively good-natured and lucky one; the athletic, outspoken one being Dana; Chloe, the decidedly quirky one with the mane of auburn curls; Heather, the newcomer and only girl that had not lived in the small town for at least the past ten years, instead coming from Dublin; Kaitlin with her bland characteristics, therefore being generally known as the "blonde". Esme, that sort of girl that sat in front of her vanity each morning in her silky underwear with curlers still in her hair while she applied her makeup.
The remaining three were Isabella, a friendly girl that was not really part of the "circle" per se as it wasn't quite her scene but often invited to these sort of events and sometimes attended. Peyton, the twin sister of Chloe that had a clique of her own and was more of an infamous for countless misbehaviour girl than Chloe's kind of rank, like Isabella she usually was invited and came every now and then.
Last but certainly not least was Mary-Jane, it was an unspoken agreement that she was leader. Tumbling, raven hair and china blue eyes with a porcelain face that would make you think she'd been cooped up at home the entire Summer and long eyelashes. The calm, authoritative and confident aura that haloed her was one of the many things that made her the leader.
It had reached that point in the sleepover where they'd all played all possible games, gossiped about every new celebrity couple and they were now throwing witty comments back at one another in a playful banter, apart from Heather who did not join in the repartee. She was new to the clique- or was it still a clique now that it was letting anyone considered worthy into it?
She was shy, withdrawn and somewhat mysterious. Similarly to Alexia, she had a tan and dark brown wavy hair with brown eyes and height of 5 ft 6". From a far distance they could easily be mistaken for twins. Coincidentally, they were both dressed in silky, burgundy pyjamas that fateful night.
"God, I'm bored." Peyton moaned. "Why, again, didn't I just stay at home and watch that new horror movie that came out in the box office on my laptop."
Alexia spoke up, "Is that even legal."
"Not at all."
Heather got up and propped herself up, her pointy elbow crushing the ground beneath, "Hey, I have a chatterbox. Wanna play?"
"You mean that paper game we used to play as kids?" Dana glanced at Heather, her bottle green eyes skeptical.
The corners of Heather's lips went up into an obscure smirk, "Yeah. That's the one."
Her chatterbox is very strange and doesn't have any good things in it, instead predicts the death of six out of all the girls, saying it will take place some time the following year.
That night there was a fatal fire in which one girl died, one girl fled and seven mourned.
Just one year later, one in their group dies just as the chatterbox had predicted. They don't take notice yet until the second girl dies and they remember the chatterbox. It's up to them to try and prevent the remaining deaths. One by one girls are dying. All the same as the chatterbox has said.
A/N: This is just the prologue that's why it's in third person. Everything else onwards will be in first person.
On 29th June 2012, a small clique of nine girls gathered round in a spacious room. Alexia, the excessively good-natured and lucky one; the athletic, outspoken one being Dana; Chloe, the decidedly quirky one with the mane of auburn curls; Heather, the newcomer and only girl that had not lived in the small town for at least the past ten years, instead coming from Dublin; Kaitlin with her bland characteristics, therefore being generally known as the "blonde". Esme, that sort of girl that sat in front of her vanity each morning in her silky underwear with curlers still in her hair while she applied her makeup.
The remaining three were Isabella, a friendly girl that was not really part of the "circle" per se as it wasn't quite her scene but often invited to these sort of events and sometimes attended. Peyton, the twin sister of Chloe that had a clique of her own and was more of an infamous for countless misbehaviour girl than Chloe's kind of rank, like Isabella she usually was invited and came every now and then.
Last but certainly not least was Mary-Jane, it was an unspoken agreement that she was leader. Tumbling, raven hair and china blue eyes with a porcelain face that would make you think she'd been cooped up at home the entire Summer and long eyelashes. The calm, authoritative and confident aura that haloed her was one of the many things that made her the leader.
It had reached that point in the sleepover where they'd all played all possible games, gossiped about every new celebrity couple and they were now throwing witty comments back at one another in a playful banter, apart from Heather who did not join in the repartee. She was new to the clique- or was it still a clique now that it was letting anyone considered worthy into it?
She was shy, withdrawn and somewhat mysterious. Similarly to Alexia, she had a tan and dark brown wavy hair with brown eyes and height of 5 ft 6". From a far distance they could easily be mistaken for twins. Coincidentally, they were both dressed in silky, burgundy pyjamas that fateful night.
"God, I'm bored." Peyton moaned. "Why, again, didn't I just stay at home and watch that new horror movie that came out in the box office on my laptop."
Alexia spoke up, "Is that even legal."
"Not at all."
Heather got up and propped herself up, her pointy elbow crushing the ground beneath, "Hey, I have a chatterbox. Wanna play?"
"You mean that paper game we used to play as kids?" Dana glanced at Heather, her bottle green eyes skeptical.
The corners of Heather's lips went up into an obscure smirk, "Yeah. That's the one."
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Yay! First chapters up!