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Invisibility 1: Britteny Ridgemint
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Invisibility: Britteny Ridgemint
People would think this impossible, we'll never get caught!' That's what 15-year old Britt Ridgemint said. Little did she know that on the same day, her life would change...
The blonde girl was staring out of the window in her room. People would stare at her depressed scowl, then turn away as if her eyes had bore into theirs. The smell of stale rosewater perfume haunted her room. The girl turned away from the window and wheeled over to the old dresser in the mouldy closet; the maid usually ignored her room now. She fumbled with her shirt, then threw it off into the laundry basket. Her ghostly hands grazed the tip of the knife atop the dresser. Shaking her head, the girl turned and pulled on a lace nightgown. She lifted herself out of her wheelchair onto her canopy bed. She used the white elastic on her bedside table to pull her silky blonde hair into a braid. She sunk into a dreamless sleep...
Britt was not known to wake with a start. The knife she had so recently grazed was being held to her throat. She started to let out a scream, but she felt the cold of metal sink into her chest, her life almost stopping to let out a breath. She then realised that the knife was clutched by a gray, shadowy figure. "L-Lina?" she breathed. The figure nodded and pushed the sharp metal farther into her chest; her heart was inches away. "P-please, Lina..." The ghostly figure smirked... Britt became aware of a shooting pain in her heart.
The blonde girl sat in her room playing her guitar. It was a slow song. A quiet, sad, slow song. Her mother had discovered her a couple years ago. Her face had been frozen in a scream. Her braid splattered in blood, a knife stuck deep in her chest. The hard part to take was that her heart was gone. Cut off from severed veins. The blonde girl's bloodstained braid was a memo of Friday the 13th, 2 years ago. She ticked another string. "Another day, another month, another day.." her singsong voice wafted into the kitchen and dining room. Her white canopy was black; black with the blood of a ghost.
Britt was alive. She sat up in her bed; just a dream, she thought. The thought of the knife that she dreamt in her chest caused her to wobble in her bed. Britt slid into her wheelchair; it squeaked in responce. Just a dream... Just a dream.
To be continued.
Next: Invisibility: Mari Hellwaters