Prologue

I kill the ignition to my midnight blue ’95 Probe and double check the trapped lock on the glove compartment. A final glance around the immaculate interior, as if I honestly would have missed anything, and I exit the vehicle, taking care to close the door quietly after me.  It’s a cool night, but November in Florida just doesn’t feel cold enough. A moment of reminiscent thought sneaks into my mind, and I almost wish I was back in New York, but I shut it out and check the time. Three ‘oh seven, right on time. I chuckle and make my way up the short stone path to our front door, taking a few seconds to see if any of the neighbors were having a late night as well. All lights were out, good news. I put my key in the door, and inspect the peeling brown paint for the millionth time. I swear this thing gets worse every day. I slip inside and lock the door.

Wasting no time, I begin down the hallway into the kitchen, not even waiting for my eyes to   adjust to the blackness as I deftly navigate my way around the house towards my room. I pause before the stairs… My parents are asleep in the room to my right. I go in and kiss my mother on the forehead before hurrying up to my large bedroom. Kicking a few clothes out of the way I head straight for the bed on the far wall, but get side tracked by the journal sitting on my desk. Definitely remember putting that away, I thought, dismayed that I could be so careless. I clicked the desk light on as I sat down, and quickly adjusted the head so that it only shown on a small patch of desk. Immediately, I noticed a small scratch by the keyhole, and hastily forgive myself for thinking I had left it out.  Well then, they ARE worried about me, aren’t they? Fortunately I have three very unique hiding spots, and one being compromised isn’t such a big deal.

After extinguishing the light I lightly walk over more clothes and a few books to get to the closet door, nudging a Rubik’s cube out of the way with my toe. Years ago I loosened the corner of the cream colored carpet underneath the dresser in here and cut out a portion of the floor that was the same size as a wooden box I had. No one has found this one yet, so I stick my journal in and replace the false floor and carpet and stand back up. Finally I’ve spent enough time away from a light source for my eyes to adjust. Standing facing away from my closet, my unmade bed is ahead of me, just off to the left and facing right, with a band poster over it. The desk is at the foot of the bed with a window just above it, blinds closed tight. Behind me and all the way to the far right is the door, with, thanks for guessing, two locks on it, including a deadbolt. I walk over to the full length mirror by my bed and look myself over. I’m wearing a black turtle neck with matching sweatpants, thin black cloth gloves and black sneakers. I pull off the black neckerchief to let dark brown hair fall into my eyes. Brushing it aside with one hand, I glance to my left at the bathroom door before picking up the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand jammed between the mirror and my bed. I set it for 7 am and begin pulling off my clothes, including the sneakers, stashing them in a secret drawer on the side of my bed closest to the wall. I pull a dark blue blanket over me and don’t even bother trying to get the sheets straight as I get comfortable. A final thought passes through my mind as I drift off. Congratulations, you’ve made your very first kill.

                         

Reviews

[Pyrofiend]

Dude just let me say that this is an amazing prologue. Having read your first book idea (which I will now redouble my efforts to retrieve) I can see that you have improved greatly as a writer. The level of detail is superb. I get the feeling that with some work this is going to be an amazing story. Keep writing.

-Pyrofiend