Twilight Hollow

This story has been rewritten and edited some, so if you saw the original take another look and let me know if you like the adjustments.

A thin silhouette slowly weaved down the deserted streets.  It was late.  The sound of Renee’s knee-high boots lightly striking the pavement echoed in the silence.  Swaying and stumbling as she walked, the girl giggled at her antics.  She’d probably had a bit too much to drink at the party, but her house was barely a few blocks away if she cut through the park, and she’d done this stroll before.

Leaving the dim streets behind she stepped into the lush park that was such a stark and beautiful contrast in an otherwise grey city.  Even in her drunken stupor she loved the smells and paused for a moment to breathe them in.  The freshly mown grass, and flowers in bloom, she wished there was more light to see them.  Renee took one last breath and twirled as she let it fill her lungs.  Her dress fanned out around her petite form.  Then she started to make her way through the shadows.

Pale slithers of moonlight fought to find a path between the leafy branches overhead, barely casting more than a few flecks of light at the girl’s feet.  She did not mind though, she knew the way well and began to sing a little song to amuse herself.

Renee abruptly stopped humming and stood quite still, listening hard.  Had she heard footsteps behind her?  Spinning quickly she peered back along the path.  Finding nothing but darkness and silence behind her, she shrugged and resumed her course.  “I think I’m still a little tipsy,” she laughed quietly to herself, shaking off her momentary fear.

With half a sigh she left the park behind and made her way back onto the dank, poorly lit streets.  Just a block from home, a cool breeze swept up her short dress and an icy chill rushed up her spine.  Renee suddenly felt like she was being watched, followed even.  She hugged her long coat around her and shivered at the thought.  “Don’t be so paranoid!” she scolded herself.  Yet she quickened her pace significantly, quite sober now.

Walking so fast in heels soon got the better of her and she briefly paused for breath.  She heard footsteps again and started to turn.

The girl gasped as a gloved hand covered her mouth.  Another hand snaked around her waist and dragged her into the pitch black of a nearby alley.  She struggled against him.  Her heart was thumping hard in her chest and her mind was clearer than it had ever been.

She thrust her heel backwards, at the person holding her, and struck flesh.  The grip on her loosened as a male voice swore.  The girl kicked again and pulled away, tripping in her haste.  Leaping to her feet, she sprinted out to the street and ran as fast as she could down the road.  She heard heavy feet pounding at her heels and tried to run faster.

Leaping at her, the man dragged her to the pavement by her waist.  Renee clawed at the ground, trying to pull herself out from under him.  Looking up, she could see her house nearby and let out a scream hoping that someone, anyone, would hear and come to her aid.

I've typed up a bit more of the story.  It continues here.

She stormed into her room, bolting the door behind her.  Panting hard she leaned against it briefly, before allowing her body to slide down to the floor.  With balled fists she glared at her red-faced reflection in the mirror opposite.  Leaning her head back against the cool door she fought to control her emotions, but the harsh voices that had driven her to her only refuge were still seeking her out. 

The more they yelled, the faster her control slipped away, until finally she rose trembling, and grabbed a knife from a nearby shelf.  She fingered it slowly, caressing it, contemplating her next move.  Her mind focused now.  The blade moved swiftly, deliberately, like it knew the path alone.  The deed was done and the weapon was cast aside, flying across the room to drive deep into the wall.  Evidence of its past started to slide down the wall.

The girl sighed, satisfied that her demons would leave her be for a while, she collapsed into her chair.  The voices were silent now.  She closed her eyes and breathed softly, finding comfort in the silence.

Lydia was roused from her stupor by a quiet dripping beside her.  Through bleary eyes she glanced to her side.  Her bemused gaze took it all in slowly, mechanically, analysing it bit by bit.  A few moments later, her brain finally registered the sight.  Her eyes snapped wide open and her mouth gave way to a gasp and a moan.  The deep gash in the back of her left hand bled steadily, blood flowing down to her fingertips, only to drop and pool on the floor below her, as her arm hung limply.

Instinct took over.  Rising carefully, Lydia steered herself over to her little bathroom and bathed her wound beneath the cool running water.  Reaching under the sink she found the disinfectant, and between her own wincing and flinching she managed to clean up her newest gash.  Finally she bandaged it up with the ease that comes with practice.

Calmly Lydia returned to the main room and peered through the curtains beside the door.  The path from the granny flat to the rest of the house was bare.  Had her parents followed her out at all?  “No doubt they were just glad to have me out of their hair again, “ she supposed.  Letting the curtain swing back into place, she turned and climbed onto her bed, glad that she didn’t live over in the house with the rest of her family, who so obviously hated her.  Closing her eyes, she willingly allowed herself to fall back into the darkness and let it wrap itself around her.  She dwelt there content, whispering to herself, “Nobody can hurt me here…nobody can see me…I’m safe…”

“Lydia!  Breakfast!  Lydia?” her mother’s voice came loudly through the intercom.  Without thinking Lydia rose, pressed the talk button and gave a monotone, “Yeah, I’m coming, “ in reply.  Looking at the clock she noticed it was eight in the morning, she’d slept over twelve hours.  She pulled on a jacket and made her way over to the house. 

There she collected her meal from her mother, hiding her bandaged hand beneath her sleeve.  Surprised by the cheerful moods her parents were in, she paused and gave them each a sharp look.  They looked a little stunned at her gaze.  She turned and headed back down to the quiet emptiness of the small flat in the yard.

Dodging the blood that still stained the white tiles, she took a seat at her desk.  Upon bringing some food to her mouth, she found her lips sealed tight.  She dropped the fork back on the plate and let forth a frustrated sigh mumbling, “We’re not allowed to eat today are we.”

After dumping yet another meal into the trash, she cleaned the floor of blood.  Then she retrieved the knife from the wall and wiped both the wall and blade clean.  Running her fingers over the hole, she was rather surprised that the knife even got there.  Lydia then sunk onto the couch and wondered how best to waste this Sunday.

I promise I'll have more of my newer stuff up soon.  Once I write it .  Or for the stuff I've already penned, you'll see it once I've typed it up.