The Beginning by Deanne Macri (best thriller novels to read .TXT) 📖

figure of a man, just walking. Not walking, no no, running through a dark alley that was thinned out by buildings that surrond it. His strong hang grazing oh so gently against the rummaged bricks that slowly crumbles at the touch of him. Him. An unknown person. Him. Him. Him. Hearing distant and vivid words that slowly fades out and blurs. It wasn't him, Devon, the coffee shop boy, it wasn't the boy in the coffee shop. It was someone else. Someone, different. Someone. But who?

Lost

I woke up, startled, scared with by the mystery within. I look outside, only to find the exquisite, a beautiful sweet haunting tree and house and snow. Then I saw a boy, short, indeed. He was wearing, I could tell, a black hoodie, all black: black boots, hoodie, gloves, maybe even socks, shirt, and underwear! To my dismay, I put on this dark green cloak, I put on my black boots, sneaking out. I try my hardest not to alarm anyone but I felt like I had to go out there. Running out the door was the easiest thing to do. It felt as if that it was the weight on my chest and shoulders, my eyes, squiting, looking for him. The Full Moon is lit, leaving the pure white snow in glitters, the snow falling down gently, seeing him. I ran. I chased him as if I was the cat and he was the mouse. I chased him into the woods. Jumping and dodging out for the trees, keeping a look out for anything. Anything that was a danger. A threat to me. When I have noticed that there was nothing, nothing to chase. No-one to chase, see in sight.
Was there even anyone? Yes. Yes! I know what I saw.
I sweep the snow off a rock, brushing it off lightly with the tipof my fingers. I plump down, tired. I shivered, feeling myself going pale, my eyes drooping low. Laying my head on my hands, I felt a person pick me up. I didn't know who it was. I was too tired to care, but I was trying to say--as I fall dangerously asleep, "Who-who's there?" My vision slowly blurred out with immense darkness.
That's when everything went black.

Imprint

Publication Date: 11-17-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Dedicated to my best friend, Zoe