Seventeen year old, Macy Maitland lives in a broken home. She goes about life building walls around her emotions. Soon, her walls begin to crack and crumble and she is forced to face life on the other side of safe. Flung in a deadly environment, she must learn to survive, to feel, and to love. No one is safe Through the DOOR!
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The night air was cool, but it felt good on my skin. It was a cloudless clear sky and the stars shined their tiny pinpoints of light down from the heavens. The best thing was the quietness. Late October offered up cool and quiet in place of the chirping insects the summers bring, and this summer had been extra-long and hot. The cool air was good, but I needed the quiet more. My head was already feeling better. As I walked along the empty black road, a clatter of noises invaded the stark night air. Passing Judge Adams house, I could hear voices behind the curtain of trees that blocked the Adam's circle driveway. It was after midnight and unlike Judge Adams to be up at this hour. My curiosity getting the better of me, I crept through the cover of trees avoiding the few fallen leaves that were just beginning to accumulate on the moist ground. Stopping at a huge oak, I peeked at what was taking place. Three teenagers were piling cardboard boxes into the back of a box delivery truck. Two of the boys looked as young as fourteen, and another was wearing a hoodie; his face darkened by shadow. Brookings population is approximately twenty two thousand, and not that I know every one of them, I do remember faces. These faces, although shadowed, I’d never seen before. Then one familiar face appeared, Judge Adams stepped around the back of the truck.
“Keep it down boys,” Judge Adams warned. “If you wake my wife, it’s another month for all of you!"
Crack. The sound of a small branch breaking under my foot triggered four heads to jerk in my direction. Ducking behind the huge oak, I held as still as possible.
“Check that out R J!” Judge Adams ordered.
I wanted to run, but my legs disagreed. Whatever they were doing appeared shady at best. Unlike my parents, I was sure whatever I was witnessing wasn’t going to garner me a gift I could use. The sound of crackling leaves and twigs permeated the crop of trees in which I hid. The footsteps falling ever closer, I pressed against the oak so hard the rough bark dug at my cheek. As the tall figure stepped around the oak tree, I was found. Frightened, I stood staring up at the faceless, hooded R J shadowed under the dark canopy of fall leaves. Even though I couldn’t see them, I could feel his eyes bearing down on me. Trembling uncontrollably, my heart and breathing quickened.
“When I head back, get the hell out of here,” he whispered, gravely.
R J turned and began back towards the others. Wasting no time, I snaked my way back through the cover of trees to the clearing at the road. Once my feet touched the asphalt I sprinted towards home.
© 2014, Brenda Hickey
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The night air was cool, but it felt good on my skin. It was a cloudless clear sky and the stars shined their tiny pinpoints of light down from the heavens. The best thing was the quietness. Late October offered up cool and quiet in place of the chirping insects the summers bring, and this summer had been extra-long and hot. The cool air was good, but I needed the quiet more. My head was already feeling better. As I walked along the empty black road, a clatter of noises invaded the stark night air. Passing Judge Adams house, I could hear voices behind the curtain of trees that blocked the Adam's circle driveway. It was after midnight and unlike Judge Adams to be up at this hour. My curiosity getting the better of me, I crept through the cover of trees avoiding the few fallen leaves that were just beginning to accumulate on the moist ground. Stopping at a huge oak, I peeked at what was taking place. Three teenagers were piling cardboard boxes into the back of a box delivery truck. Two of the boys looked as young as fourteen, and another was wearing a hoodie; his face darkened by shadow. Brookings population is approximately twenty two thousand, and not that I know every one of them, I do remember faces. These faces, although shadowed, I’d never seen before. Then one familiar face appeared, Judge Adams stepped around the back of the truck.
“Keep it down boys,” Judge Adams warned. “If you wake my wife, it’s another month for all of you!"
Crack. The sound of a small branch breaking under my foot triggered four heads to jerk in my direction. Ducking behind the huge oak, I held as still as possible.
“Check that out R J!” Judge Adams ordered.
I wanted to run, but my legs disagreed. Whatever they were doing appeared shady at best. Unlike my parents, I was sure whatever I was witnessing wasn’t going to garner me a gift I could use. The sound of crackling leaves and twigs permeated the crop of trees in which I hid. The footsteps falling ever closer, I pressed against the oak so hard the rough bark dug at my cheek. As the tall figure stepped around the oak tree, I was found. Frightened, I stood staring up at the faceless, hooded R J shadowed under the dark canopy of fall leaves. Even though I couldn’t see them, I could feel his eyes bearing down on me. Trembling uncontrollably, my heart and breathing quickened.
“When I head back, get the hell out of here,” he whispered, gravely.
R J turned and began back towards the others. Wasting no time, I snaked my way back through the cover of trees to the clearing at the road. Once my feet touched the asphalt I sprinted towards home.
© 2014, Brenda Hickey